“And ever has it been that love knows not its own depth with the hour of separation”
~ Kahil Gabran
True love grace has often granted us
Foolish moments lost to ego’s expense
Those wasted minutes of togetherness
Now rendered mis’ry in our own absence
As the memories loom of lust intense
How sweet the season once bloomed within
When souls stripped naked without pretense
Found harder in their melded heartbeat’s din
Love’s the opiate of oblivion,
Yet separation sharpens its cruel edge
And bliss rots into lonely torments
When your kiss is no longer my privilege.
So deep our love that scarce my broken heart
Find the will to beat whilst we’re torn apart.