The loss of Sunshine darkens my soul.
The defeat of Hope, once more, is crushing.
Left alone in a bleak world, I drag myself in and out of bed.
Lying in the sheets, aware of the coldness, left without arms to hold me, I reach for what was.
Tears fall as I stand in my empty kitchen. I hear the echo of food and conversation.
I am too much and not enough at the same time. A risk, that is best not taken.
I close my eyes and feel the familiar onslaught of heartache and loneliness.
My heart longs for a place of peace, a soft space to land.
A place where we hold hands and drink coffee on the porch.
A place with dinner on the table and slow dancing in the living room.
A place of routine and affection, folding laundry, doing dishes, and movies on the couch.
A place to fall asleep and wake in your arms.
My heart longs for a place that is ours and a forever together.
We are trees living on opposite sides of a street.
Our roots grow underground, hidden.
Lengthening toward each other until they touch and intertwine.
After, you roll on top of me.
The weight of you is an intimate full body embrace.
I lay under you, absorbing the last bits of our emotional and physical release into my soul.
I am comforted and warm, and I love you.
I carry the weight of you as a memory throughout the day.
Find those places inside me.
The places that are the most hurt, the most ruined.
Find those places inside me where I dwell alone and lay yourself gently there.
Love me for all my wicked, and all my wrecked.
Enter that space and accept my brokenness with your compassion and your kisses.
The way we make love in the heat of Summer is sticky and sweet.
Wet skin and honey running down our legs.