(thelotuseater.com)
Sitting alone at night, I can feel you beside me in the prickling silence, feel your hands ghosting over my skin. I look to you and the world dissolves around me, narrowing, simplifying, concentrating around your figure. My eyes see nothing else.
Love fluctuates like mercury; as the summer fades to autumn I find myself beginning to doubt your solidity. Anxious, I try to wait it out. Petrified, I can do nothing else; I am frozen--longing, hoping, wishing for your return--and when I close my eyes I can feel you beside me, never close enough.
The land is bare and dead, its beauty now lying in desolation... a stark contrast to the joyous vitality of summer. I wait ever-longer, never truly believing you'll come back to me, but far too terrified of solitude to leave.
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