Him

We're apart once again

But this time something feels different

My breath leaves me when I think of him

As if my soul has already chosen its home

I long for him

Like a wife for a distant husband

Written letters gather in my hands

And poem shaped around his name

And yet I never write it...

His gentle touch etched into my soul

I ache for his love

I call him mine and the world falls quiet

I call him my husband

Even if he turns away from the word...

It's a strange kind of love to envy every soul who gets to spend time with him while I wait outside his hours.

Strange still to call him mine in front of him..

While he looks at me like a mystery

I type I love you!

And erase it again and again...

Doesn't he get it? That I love him indeed!

Yet have no courage to speak

Perhaps one day he will pull me close

and in the quiet between us whisper,

- I love you..