The evening arrives
in a downcast moment,
jabbing spears at
anguished hours of longing,
cynical wounds
bash the soul
of a romantic.
Struggling to breath
consumed by the emptiness.
Alone so very long …
desiring a gentle caress,
an essential need
a touch that awakens
the body’s impulse
to the hands of another.
Not just any other...
a soul companion
a match of the mind
a connection that
knocks me silly
that drives me crazy
that I cannot walk
away from easily.
Cynical thoughts
creep in trying to
pollute and weaken
a romantic’s heart.
It wins some days
most other days
