
The everlasting fleeting attempts at sleep were what welcomed me to the thought of you,
My imagination riddled with the longing for your skin and a touch unmatched by nothing but the smooth character of silk.
Each vision was but a recollection of a gentle warmth I’ve found myself longing for,
One that reminisced simplicity through a fond memory of your voice.
Spoken with purity and intention behind a heart that was full,
For each night that proudly displayed a well lit moon brought me closer to you.
Reaching out my hand shakily in realization that the candle had been extinguished,
And just like many others it would leave its scent behind for my enjoyment or suffering.
A shelf of memorabilia only to indicate what could have been but rightly wasn’t,
Yet leaving me in an urgent need to mend the emptiness inside of me.
A gaping hole I was far too familiar with but one that was soon filled by my need to let go,
Who are you and when will you come to me? I turned to the moon desperately,
As if this mystical sphere would produce an answer.
But silence proved to be its only reply, hinting that I already knew all I needed to.
KA
About the Creator
Kenzo A
Writing for the soul.


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