the coldness left in my room,
after you'd left,
leaves me wanting your warmth,
your beauty,
your breath on my neck.
the coldness left in my heart,
before you,
warms itself from your words,
your soul,
your eyes on my lips.
the coldness left throughout my house,
constantly dreary,
warms itself from your presence,
your laughter,
your hair, tangled in my fingers.
and you'd done it all with nothing,
but the simplicity of kindness and the complexity of love.
there's so much here, i feel it, but i still don't know what.
words haven't described such things;
shakespeare's sonnets won't even make sense of it.
and you'd made me almost speechless,
but the words always have found their ways through.
there's so much i want to say; still figuring it out.
give me time, my darling, i plead;
there's so much more that i'll be sure to soon admit.
mostly of the true beauty within you
the warmth i feel now,
after you came,
leaves me wanting your touch,
your kiss,
your love to be all mine.