I’ve always found your house oddly appealing. I suppose because it is well-kept, and no weeds seem to be growing in the front garden. Your house just looks nice, in the same way that houses can look sad, lonely, rude or proud. I like the quietness of your house, and how it stands contentedly onContinue reading “If I knocked.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” you say as I hand you a gift. I smile, blush and look down. I wonder if you realise that the only reason I am thoughtful is because my thoughts are full of you …
Any day graced by your presence is a day worth living.
There are times when I think about you, and feel, somewhere in the recesses of my being, a sadness. It is subtle and barely noticeable at first, but if I think about you for long enough, my heart starts to clench, and I suddenly want to cry, without knowing why, or where this pain comesContinue reading “a sadness.”
It does not take much to make me happy: A conversation, a smile and eye-contact are all great, but unnecessary; What is really needed, Is just the sight of you, For with that, I know you exist, and are alive.
maybe one day you will need me, and be glad that I am alive.
Day 1 I recognise you. Even with all these pews between us, I know it is you. I recognise your slanky figure, complete with tall height and skinny limbs. I recognise your round face and that messy, dark blonde (almost brown) hair. The sight of you flips my stomach upside down – I can scarcelyContinue reading “over.”
the sight of you is a delight and a balm, instantly soothing the aches that dig themselves inside after too long an absence; and out of which seeps out an unbearable longing, a seeking to be near you once more.
My soul longs to be in communion with yours. There, in the non-physical realms, I shall find you, and together we shall be, in perfect harmony, with no holding back, no walls keeping each other apart; We shall know each other inside out and there shall be only peace, and love, and joy from reunitingContinue reading “communion.”
She could hear the sound of birds chirping in the trees. It was a warm day, early in the summer, and the sun was high up in the sky, which was blue, bluer than the shirt he was wearing. “This,” she started, waving in the air a small bundle of folded pieces of paper, “wasContinue reading ““this””