Unsure of myself, I jot down a few words and then stop. I scratch them out and instead listen to the angry crows screaming at each other from the trees across the street. A waning summer at the hands of the turning. Time is a sweet and merciless thing. My coffee is cold and my hair is a mess. The house is empty but there are creaks in the walls coming from somewhere downstairs. The sound of the clock is soft and deafening. It’s only been a few days but the lines of the time between us stretch all the way to the stars and back. They come back, do you see what I mean. Patience is a virtue. Patience is the way I wait for you in dim paled light like a shadow. Like a secret. Like torture. I miss you in places I never knew existed inside me until they began to ache.
Allison Marie Conway 
Love like an addiction – I’ve known this.
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There’s a chemical element isn’t there. 🌹
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There really is. You describe it well.
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Thank you so much, VJ. ♥️🕊
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Welcome
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‘I miss you in places I never knew existed inside me until they began to ache.’ Sublime.
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I am humbled, as ever, by your choice of a single word so beautiful. Thank you so. 🖤
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It is your words that drive mine.
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My words and I are deeply touched to know this. 🙏🏻🌹🕊
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I am delighted to touch both.
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A treat all around.🌹✨
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I am certain.
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Smiles.
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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So feeling this…💙
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Thank you so much, dear Lisa, I’m so touched ♥️🕊
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