When will it stop I wonder, this desire to scoop you up and cradle you in my arms. When will the weight no my chest stop bringing me back to your head on my shoulder. When anything touching my sides does not remind me of your caress.
I don't know if that is a day to look forward to, or a day to dread. I believe the day that I stop feeling these things may very well be the day I am laid in the earth, or my ashes are spread by the winds.
Every touch I imagine, every dreamy caress, every hold I feel in the darkness of my mind forms the cocoon that holds me tight and keeps me safe.
Even though I wish you were in my arms, it is the thought of you that holds me close.
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