Constructs

Why are
Words so inadequate
When I reach for you?

How can I
Accurately convey
The trace of a fingertip
Along the curve of your hip or along
The soft dimple in the small of your back?

Each night as I envelop you in my arms
The scent of your hair
Mocks my attempts to attach
These constructs called words

And when I awake and find your hand in mine
I desperately search for
An unused phrase,
And unrepeated word
That paints best a picture,
That speaks to you
Of this joy that appears
Beyond definition

Yet what else is there for me to use?
I am no painter or musician

Is there another language
I must learn
That can portray

The way we fit and
The safety we feel
As we hold one another?

Our gaze meets and
I madly search
The Soul’s dictionary
The Heart’s thesaurus

And once more
The words fall away

Your loving glance becomes the poem
Your laughter the verse
The brush of your lips becomes the sonnet
Your arms wrapped around me, the Pulitzer

This game is wondrously

Frustrating

Perhaps
It is Evolution
That needs to catch up

Where the construct
And Heart space is so
Undeniably intertwined

That one cannot survive
Without the other

Perhaps that is what
Already

Is

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Tags:

love, words and constructs