untitled

isn't there more that i can write than this paltry set of words
how inadequate it seems to describe what you mean to me
a robustness i haven't been acquainted in a while
not since i lost what i thought couldn't be found
again for me, a sense of being free to wonder
wonder how your eyes could be doing this to me
through cyberspace you feel to me real
ones and zeroes translating emotions that i sorely need
because when i look upon your face on the screen
how your hair curls in what to me seems
a darkness that begs for me to bury
my hand to feel, the softness of your skin
lips of a pink hue that will not leave
not until i have the privilege to taste their delicacy
even then will continue to beg for a taste and another and another
as your expression speaks a story of a million words
that fail to be captured by this sense i merge
what art i have come to finally understand
is a gate to paint you immortal in bold
strokes of pen clashing against anonymity
and i want to be more than a forgotten story
i want to be written in the book you hold
gently in the chasms of your heart
written by the subtlests of your grace
be remembered by not just the stars but also your face
~as i look forward to one day holding you against me