this kind of love.

even in all this festivity, my heart longs to be with you.
i wake up with fragments of dreams and imaginings of you
i cannot take this anymore, what do i do
my heart is yours already, there can be no one else.

around you i only wait and make up hopes
and in all this relentless joy of the passing days, amidst these
great tides, it seems as if the undercurrents are carrying
thoughts of you, memories, fragments, dreams, weaved around
all that is you.

my soul longs for you;
what else could be more real.
why do you not see what i see, how have you become so blind.
i yearn to tell you i have fallen for you but this isn’t that kind
of love. it’s the sort of love that speaks volumes without words,
the kind that goes unsaid but you feel it all the same,
the kind that you realize in a sudden, a love without a name.

since you do not see what i see, i am moving forward-
new worlds, worlds and worlds without you in them;
and ever so often, my soul speaks out in these dreams
and longs for you. i wake, confused with what’s real and
what’s not, my heart lodged, my soul hurt, missing after you.

 

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