Clouds, impending storms.
I hear her voice in my mind every time she sends a text message. I can see a new life, a new world from here.
This is what it should be like to be loved. The first times it was a mockery, one sided. I don't have to pretend, or hide from her.
I get to just exist.
And that is what makes me happy.
-
It is cold and wet.
The ladders hard and sharp.
My knuckles and lips crack. A little blood, but not much. I'm sore. Sore legs, back, feet, hands. The burn on the back of my arm is raw. I'm here, feeling, seeing, hearing all of it.
You
You, are what I need.
Soft.
Warm.
I need couches, and kisses, and beds. Children, my wife. Embraces, beauty, music, joy. And there you are. Those eyes, my god, those eyes. When you smile at me and I see it in those eyes. I fall in love all over again.
Your worth to me has no measurement. Your beauty no equal. Your mind no counterpart. To hold your hand in the rain would be bliss...
...glory...
...heaven...
I will always come home to you.
I wish I had been coming home to you for years.
File under Virtue.
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