• I long for you, grope for you.
    Your kiss, your caress, your sweet words!
    Now I grasp the words of Romeo, of Juliet!
    Those lovers not fated to be.
    They chose death together than the world apart!
    I would as well, we are as star-crossed as they.
    Death's embrace is less cold than a day without you.

    My love, my own!
    How these waking moments are torment!
    Without thee I wither, I fade
    Like a rose plucked from the sun's kiss.
    But your radiance keeps me bright, me whole.
    In your light I spread petals of the deepest red.
    But unlike the rose I have no thorns for you,
    No sharp things with which to draw blood!

    My sharp tongue lost it's edge for you,
    My normal hate is drowned in sweet things of you.
    'Till next I am in your embrace,
    I'll drift, float in mine imaginings, mine memories of you.
    My words fumble from my mouth.
    If I try to speak even a word of my love.
    My pen is the only vent for my passion.
    My tongue cannot falter on paper nor can it miss-say.

    I wish my mouth were not constrained,
    Not held back by fear, by worry of hurt.
    Yet my hand on paper cannot be stayed,
    Making line, after line for you!
    Yet will your ears ever hear these words?
    Will your eyes ever caress this page?
    My hand when holding my words in paper form,
    It is as quaking, as faltering!

    You call me beautiful, not just in body,
    In mind, in spirit. In those lasting things!
    Yet your spirit outshines mine.
    I cannot draw near such a soul!
    Nor get close enough to see more than a glimmer.
    Though I long it to be so.
    For now just hold me, let me find comfort in your arms.
    I found it there once, how I long for it again!