Tectrix

You slipped methodically past the textures of my walls and I found myself gaping with thoughts of being with you for infinity, just as we were on Tuesdays, and every other day on the side.
 
The sovereignty of my soul was found in the way your being resonated and nestled into the depths of mine, and we diverged upon one another’s polymathic being, without ever knowing where we were going.
 
With you, being your own in an innumerable measurable, it was bound to happen as my heart recognised you from the moment we engaged in a dialogue, all those years ago, and some things aren't meant to be anything other than the adventure that emerges, with discovery.
 
Our spirits twined themselves in a gathering that awoke me to the possibilities of my rite to ride your habituates until you burst forth, and planted your amaranth in cherry tinged hues, while I savoured the essence of me, upon your lips, and there is no mathematical or scientific equation to what you made me feel.
 
I struggle to fathom the concept of independence and intimacy, even though there’s timeless advice from Gibran to draw upon, and I miss the way you made me feel, without ever touching me as you edged yourself towards those who outcasted you, purely upon association to me.
 
I would surrender to your will if it meant waking up to you at dawn, and kissing your lips, evermore.
 
Alas, I wander, just as Tolstoy wondered, who are you, and what are you, and why are you keeping me awake at night ?
 
The impact you’ve had upon me leaves me feeling lost, as if you became my compass, which enabled me to sail towards you to metabolise the context of our bond.  
 
It doesn’t feel strange to whisper your name in the dark in prayer, and blow kisses to you, as if your lips could never feel the way you’ve consumed my dreams.
 
I used to think there was beauty in our fragility, but the vulnerability of never feeling the weight of you upon my flesh, leaves me fractured internally as our hearts became acquainted with one another, as I hoped.
 
My soul mourns the loss of what should have been enmeshed all along, and I am wounded by the depths of my love for you, knowing that you’re unable to reciprocate, and my taffeta heart is torn asunder in the way you keep me, at a distance.
 
 
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