It is this certain time of the month when I miss love. I long for it like I long for nothing else. I feel the goose bumps all over me and I feel the chill in my bones. My heart desires for love to really come. I hear this man speaking to a lady on the phone, his tender voice soothes me as I pretend to be the one he is speaking to softly on the phone. And when he said his parting ‘I love you’ at the end of the tête—-tête, it is then that I uttered the words and long to say them in real meaning to someone truly special. Where is he? Why hasn’t he found me yet? I have lived in pretense to love someone who offers to love me or give me a similar feeling of it. I want to feel the absolute essence of the emotion. How often had I tried to fall?? Fall, plummet, plunge really in love until it takes my breath away, until I am willing to genuinely bleed and leave everything behind for love. Everything I do is just a reflection of something I long but the unfeigned emotion has never moved me into dimensions which I know exists but I have never been to. Aah. Let me fly, let me float, let me linger, let me feel, let me melt, let me burn, let me be in embers, let me lick and weep in ecstasy, let me just hold one truth about this love. Let me define it, let me defy me, let me wrap my arms around it, let me live in it, let me thrive in it, let me die with it, in it, all around it. Let me grasp it for even a second, let me just savor it with my whole life and let me be crucified with it. Let me touch it, make love to it, caress it and hold it close in my heart, on my body, on my soul. Let me be exhilarated with it, let me beenraptured by it. I live a life of pure surrender but I never found the one who would make me live,.make me vanquish, make me melt and be enthralled with a complete abandonment of what I feel inside. The spellbinding passion I so long desire has not found me, I go around it, climbed on it, slept with it, rolled with it, but never actually lived it. It is like a mockery of sorts, a tragic comedy of roles, a nostalgia of something that never was. Am I unlucky? No I do not think so. Love does not come with luck, it comes with the divine plan, the heavenly intervention, mixed with the patience and faith that before we were born someone was meant for us, the one who was made specially for me, my other half, who breathes the same rhythm as I do. Someone who believes I am for him too. He must be somewhere there, waiting, longing for me, wondering when I will meet him face to face, with my eyes looking straight at him, into his soul. He will captivate my heart the way no man has ever had, he will hold me close like a lover who fits in the same exact mold. He will touch me like a sculptor who makes a work of art and lifts me into heights which even the sun cannot put too much heat on yet beam on its lovely sunshine. It will be like in a rainforest where moss thrives, rain drizzles, birds sing, crickets mutter, the silence between us would be like sheer succumb to passionate helplessness. In this wallow hunger, I heave a sigh, I dream, I remember. The fervent anguish of waiting devours me into silent wishing of things unforeseen, of moments unmade even angels faint over the thought. Yet love does all these things to those who are worthy, to those who are blessed, to those who are meant to be. It will be a time when we hold and be bold, when we burst into bubbles, into sleepless reveries, into tender memories, into painful groping, into glowing defeat, into morning bliss, into euphoric noon hours, into jovial eventides, into delightful afternoons, into silent screams, into wordless conversations. Let me be a river, let me be a sea, let me be a brook, let me be an ocean, let me fly, let me float, let me linger, let me gloat, let me touch you, let me love you with all my heart. Let me be lustful, let me be affectionate, let me be compassionate let me be warm, let me be angry, let me be kind, let me be famished let me be replete, let me be thirsty, let me be gorged. All these my heart crave let me be your master, let me be a slave, let me be your one and only, let me be your last lover. Find me, I am, have been, all my life, searching for you.
ANH, the idyllic idle bard,
in memory of love lost and hearts broken, to strangers, friends and foes.
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