You are the first thing I heed
when sleep is vacated
my lips brush across our skin
as your side of the bed
...
In this February cold
where I stand in the light of the moon
my breathe is dancing on the wind
...
Gridlock
You are the first thing I heed
when sleep is vacated
my lips brush across our skin
as your side of the bed
becomes deserted and cold
You are what I crave when I consider
all of our possibilities
and by you only,
my intimacies can be fulfilled
My fears yearn for your comfort
as the night falls
and I become detached from reality
bemused, where despair has no limits
But we,
we are stuck in a gridlock
where our fears paralyze us
and we are starving
for warmth emraces