Lonely...

I lie here and wish for his arms around me, holding me close. His warm breath on my neck, gently stroking my arm. His voice in my ear, telling me about his day. The feel of his strong arm on my hand. The safety of his embrace. The comfort of his heartbeat. HIs love for me mixing with my love for him.

Poets write about love more than anything else; wanting it, needing it, having it, lossing it. It drives us , it guides us, it makes us ache. It causes joy, it can create pain.

Where are you? What are you doing? Are you thinking of me? Wondering about me? Looking forward to me as I am for you? Take your time, I am getting ready to someday meet you and I'm glad that you're there...somewhere.