Chill Night (Sin Paciencia)

Tonight I am keening for two limbs entertwined and infused in mine

the feathery touch of roughened fingertips tracing the curves

the electric sting of your flesh meeting and parting

as waves of a shoreline under a waxing moon

dazzling and cool as the blustering breeze.

 

 

 

 

Yet I keen more mightily for your words to be eloquently visible

on your lips as we speak our thoughts aloud, unmeasured

brought to lucidity by your gleaming eyes and the set

of your trembling jaw and not in my imagination

as I am wont to see your words of late.

 

 

 

 

Keening and aching with the need of you tonight I find myself

awake at a godforsaken hour pouring my thoughts

into letters into words into nothing more than ink

and does it lessen my desire to see your face?

If only for a moment.. yet, NO.

 

 

 

 

Words that pour forth like a fountain do nothing more

than present themselves unloved on a page

frigid, heartless and rigid, unembraceable

they are not enough this snowy night

nor will they ever suffice.

 

 

 

 

I crave fire and redemption from the callous air

I seek passion, heat, direction, light

I want to be a example of sin

and instead find myself

an example of lonely.

 

 

 

 

I am waiting for you desparatively

impatient and increasingly

 

 

cold.