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Reflections: What love has done to me?

by Henry Joseph Buell III

Created on: August 16, 2009   Last Updated: April 10, 2010

Love Has Left Me Empty – 

I wake each morning to the emptiness of my bed, watching the night sky flee from the love and life dawn promises.  The first rays of his embrace reach out to her in a silent cry before she disappears over the edge of the world.  It seems that I alone bear silent witness to this tragedy.  It echoes my own pain, for the world I now occupy might be flat for all the chance I have of reaching over the edge to bring you back.

My only kiss is from the sun as I begin my run.  Legs pumping in rhythm to my pounding heart, the world around me flashes by, becoming more indistinct with each stride.  It changes from Da Vinci to Picasso and from Picasso to Monet.

Sweat flows freely from my body, soaking my shirt and hair.  No one passing would notice the tears I freely shed.  With each step I try to forget you, but I cannot.  No matter where I look, the shadow of your memory haunts me.  However far I run, your hand always seems find mine.  Whenever I rest, your voice is carried to me by the laughter and innocence of children at play.

I don't stop running until I reach my apartment.  Once there I step directly into the shower.  It is so hot, reminiscent of your embrace.  It washes over my face and mixes with tears of frustration.  Silver lines of water caress my chest and slide down my stomach, kissing the insides of my thighs.

Like your love, the water does not stay, instead fleeing beyond my reach, and so I finish.  Dressing is a mechanical act of necessity.  Everywhere I look there are signs of you, but this apartment that was once ours stands silent as a mausoleum.  The dreams we once shared in this place have gone beyond the edge of the world with you.

As I step from the building the wind sighs through my wet hair, teasing me as you once did.  I imagine your fingers against my scalp, remembering your lithe and delicate hands tracing the lines of my face.  My whole body aches to feel you.  How I long for your fingers against my lips, and your hands at the back of my neck, gently pulling my hair and me down on top of you and into you.

My days remind me of sunsets where goodnight kisses have become clouds that disappear with the coming of night.  They are replaced with goodbye kisses, elusive as moonbeams.  Each time a night bird raises its lonely cry, another piece of my soul is of carried away.

At home our bed sits empty and barren, like a winter field waiting for the first snow to blanket it.  The bent stalks of wheat and weeds are all that remains of your hair.  My summer is long gone.  The nights I suffer alone in this cold prison are seemingly endless.

Without you, I dream you, only to wake and lose you once more.  With my morning coffee in hand, I whisper my wishes to the wind as it blows past weeks of forgotten newspapers outside of my door.  My world is cold and empty without you.

I would relive every moment we shared so as to never again be without you.  Give me your fingernails down my back, legs entwined in mine, and feet one against the other, desperate to make up for caresses busy hands neglect.  Move against me once more, wet with only sweat and love, that I might taste us gain.

Bring me my love, that I might once more share breath with her.  Give my words wings, that they might carry across the world and bring her back to me.

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