I long to hold her and never let go.

I have never touched her.

She won’t let me see her face.

I don’t mind.

I listen to her voice in the darkness,

a single small candle they share breathes in the same air and dances across the wax in its wonder.

She speaks a language infused with His words and I am pushed deeper into her heart.

I never knew it could go like this.

She has unique features, that I’d somehow forgotten,

textures that torment me if I am away too long.

I wish she were here, hand fit into my own like two lovers lounging,

after long discourses that stay hidden and heart-held.

Mine holds her close, but I am not sure where mine ends and hers begins.

It should be like this.

 

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