You’re inside my head
inside my heart
touching my soul
uplifting my spirit.
I keep expecting to wake up and realize it’s a dream,
a fleeting memory
cast across the sands of time.
There’s no rhyme or reason to it,
how can you be real?
I catch myself staring at the empty spaces left in my bed,
the scent of you lingering on my pillowcases,
where curly hair strands lay resting.
The taste of you on my tongue,
the sweet embrace of your lips,
I don’t know what you do to me.
It’s as if you’ve bewitched me with the magic of soft words and devilish smiles,
set against angelic eyes which hold me captive
as your skin sings beneath my fingertips.
And yet, like a man out of time I count the seconds as they turn to minutes and minutes turn to hours,
because I’m always thinking about when next I’ll see you.
I spent years searching the catacombs of my mind for the ghosts of you that remained like hieroglyphs,
etched in stone.
