Standing here with my heart in my hands, my arms outstretched and reaching, its crimson, drum-like cadence beating still in my clasped, calloused grip. "I think this belongs to you..."
Wanting so much to give you what is yours, and return to sender a love that is so apparent and so real, yet so hidden and only imagined in a noisy mind longing for quiet and peace. To find its way back home.
Standing here watching the moon over the silhouetted cliffs, dotted with snow, the cold crisp air like a lens to focus the night's beauty into a perfect little ball I see with my eyes, watching this day go by. "I think this belongs to you..." Wanting so much to spend this day with you and fill in the missing space that seems to blur a perfect moment, cause you're not there.
Standing here remembering the way your essence lingers like sandalwood and a fresh iris, how the keepsakes you left are still imprinted on this heart: your goodness and your kindness, the way your smile chases away all the darkness and heartache, the way you light up the room and leave a broken man whole again, this perfection in an imperfect world. "I think this belongs to you..."
Copyright Roxx Hunter 2018.