Breathing is
Without air,
Without sound,
Without which gives
Warmth
To my weathered
Fingertips;
If only to touch you,
Reach you
In the slightest shudder
Of my eyes.
My soul
Is yours.
My heart,
I succumb.
My every inch of sanity
Covers me,
Wakes the faintest
Shadow of you.
I long for that day
When the sun shines on me
Like how it does
Every morning
Next to you.