It tangles my gut, dragging my chest deep down into the soul.
Longing for a touch, or a gaze from whom I have yet to share the same plane.
At night I do dream, that in the twilight sky we see the same things.
The same moon, and stars… drawing pyramids and following maps to our lost past.
There can never be a ripe pair of two romantics.
Even Juliet did not care much for Romeo’s antics.
Yin-Yang and the Dao wont allow it;
to burn with unrequited desire is my cursed darkness.
If only you would stop delivering gifts,
fueling my agony with empty persistence.
I cannot confess the way I understand love is different than thou.
But I accept, any love of yours tis better than none.
But those three words dear,
Do cut deep.
I cannot confess the things I fantasize while in my bed.
And so those three words you say,
A ripple of my heart heats the anguish flooding through my veins.
Desire grows, no longer waiting to be contained.
Those three words that you speak,