Sunday, June 5, 2016

Beneath a Boston Street Lamp

I've lost many things in this world, some sharply stolen, torn and shorn, ripped from me by the teeth of betrayal. How is it that the taste of love can sour and bitter life shriveling everything into gray? And yet, without love there is no sunshine. I yearn for the steam between two souls, it's connectiveness, the building bond of creativity. There are too many nights wasted on lust and loneliness, too many. Yet, I find delight in the things I have won. Things, occurrences more than things, when our eyes met, when in that sacred moment our lips met. Your scent, your intellect, your gestures became my sunlight. And though I have lost in loving others. I find you to still be that spark that whisks me forward into the path that I am to forge. And if words become my only footprint in this world, I will leave a trail of them. Only asking that you make your own for me to follow.

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