A Thirst Quenched

A Thirst Quenched

The thirst, the endless, desiccated thirst
The pain of the heart, arid and unquenched, not beating
Void of that camaraderie that it requires
The loneliness that fills the void is like air within a canyon
It is space filled but without substance
The depth of isolation that can be reached by no other means than seclusion
No emotions for oneself and empty within
It is not a depression as much as a missing piece of an incomplete puzzle

Then there falls that first drop of rain
That sight of her beauty
Hazel eyes that stare back with an impossible warmth
A connection
Another drop
A link
Another drop, another drop
The contours of the puzzle piece perfectly shaped
Another drop, another drop, another drop
Each, space, each thought, ideal

Now a trickle, it gently flows, slowly to every dry tributary
Drop after drop after drop
A trickle becomes a stream
The intellect, the conversation, the humor
A stream gains momentum as it flows gently from one branch to another
The hands, delicate hands, the touch
A stream becomes a shallow river feeding point after point
A beat
A small devil smiling at me.

The lips, those precious lips, delicate and smooth
Another beat
The voice, soft, accented, beautiful
Another beat, Another beat
The flow becomes stronger a gush as the river flows faster
Beat, Beat, Beat, Beat
Her thoughts fascinate me, Her movements mezmorize me

I am alive

May 6th, 2012|Poetry|Comments Off on A Thirst Quenched

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