There’s a place between falling asleep and leaving this earth that I find myself dreaming of you. It’s subtle, but it’s vast. It warms me to my toes. Almost crack-your-window-remember-to-breathe-worthy. I usually close my eyes with anticipation; moan for a silhouette I’ve tasted before and I trace my fingers along the same lines you’ve run your hands. I think about what it’d be like to have you close enough to shut out. Because I’d do that and you know it. I’d play hard to get and you wouldn’t let me go a day without letting me know I’m not that hard. Your edges were so soft; they brushed down to my salty core. You were like the greatest gift I never got to open. I’m the holiday you so desperately wanted to celebrate. And yet, we may never collide again.

There’s sadness in the unattainable, but total peace in never having to love something so much that it renders pain when lost. Without absolute joy, we dodge that suffering. Too bad I’d suffer a thousand sleepless nights to spend one more day in that moment I felt home. Your love was like a future heaven; your memory a present hell. What a short-lived manifestation of total euphoria with just one kiss.

The future is a replica of the past, and I hope I find a piece of you in my tomorrow. Because even an ounce of your soul would heal any wound. Your affection knew no limits, your respect unconditional. When I looked at you, you felt my emotions before I spoke any words. My words couldn’t even do justice to your actions which went unnoticed far too long. I wait for you to meet me in a better life. If not this one, one where the ink to our stories crash into each other like our bodies on an unmade bed. Like we had time for life’s simple chores. Our love was enough to consume an entire span of daylight.

Was. Not as is. Reactivating the past gives it the power to consume me. I almost fall for the pain in hope for the pleasure. Pleasure beyond a woman’s wildest dreams. Something you handed me blindly and I stored carelessly. Fools we were, in lust with a love I may never know again.

One thought on “To Love Even Once Is Enough

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