This is every sweet sentiment swallowed when I bite my tongue,
This is every strand of hair twirled between my finger and thumb,
This is the breaths held when you walk by, stuck in my lungs,
This is revelling still in your sighs and the bliss of its limelight and the dulcet tones after the song’s sung.
This is your smile but the poem doesn’t do it justice,
These are your eyes that tell me simply just this,
This is love that hits harder than any habit,
Which keeps me rolling yet in this as though I were rabid, how bad I’d love still to have it.
This is solitude pining again for purchase,
This is the thing in the world that makes all the trials and tribulations worth it,
This is even’song aching for the dawn,
When free at last, to take to task the fact that yet you’re gone.