Broken Vines

I dream of you every morning since.
Awakening with the aftertaste of your soft touch; your
weathered body pressing against my yearning skin.

I search for the same eyes that once pulled me into
embrace and held me captive.
Openly declaring that I am still your prisoner.

I reach out with forgiving intent,
Yet you look away with sadness when I only seek to comfort.

Know that this is not your fault, in any way, dear one.

Every word left unsaid bears patience,
Every glance stolen, an attempt at your memory,
Every touch, a secret whisper of our longing.

The shadows question my faith as each day passes.
But our love never fades,
And words need not express our everlasting.

Shanawaz

 

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