I might as well write your words on my skin in ink.
I assume it will hurt less than this tattoo you have left infecting my heart.

My heart is ruined.
      Aching.
A stomach at 4 AM.
      Regurgitating.
The pain is unbearable.
      Excruciating.

Float.
Float away with me.
Take my shaking hand and steady me.

Drift.
Drift away with me.
Take my trembling waist and lead me.

Steady me and lead me
through this world's structured madness.

My feet need to leave this pavement.
My ankles are turning to stone.

My toes crave the clouds.

"My God,"

he whispered with his hands tangled in her hair, a hitch in his voice, and a spark in his eye.

"I want you. With all of my being, I want you. I want to trace the shadows that play on your face, and I want to thank the sun every morning for accentuating your slopes and angles in such a way that destroys my ability to breathe."

Promise me that when we're old
When we have nothing left to gain
You will knead my tired muscles
To ease the aching pain.