When our hearts finally meet

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I can spend hours gazing into your eyes,

even though you may not even exist.

I can feel the lingering trail of your fingers,

slowly caressing my cheeks,

but your hands are invisible.

 Your words fall on my ears,

like a soft, warm rain in July,

and yet they are only the whispers of the wind.

 These things are promises of you,

ethereal harbingers of a time that may come.

I can’t get the thought of you out of my head,

 perhaps because you are supposed to be there.

You are the dream I keep dreaming,

the ghost that haunts my subconscious.

When we are brought together,

whether in this lifetime or another,

two souls will appreciate their journey,

because no distance can keep us apart.

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When our hearts finally meet,

they will speak a language,

that they are only meant to speak to each other.

~~

(image credit)

The promise of you

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Thank you Edward Hotspur – you have inspired me to think deeply and more often about romance.  Cheers to you.

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The Promise of You

I know you’re out there somewhere, searching for me as much as I’m searching for you.  You may already know me, but maybe we’ve never met.  You know that I’m sensitive, something that not many others know about me because I don’t like to feel vulnerable.  You appreciate my quick wit and you love the fact that I scream at the television during football games.  You value the fact that I’m more tomboy than girl and I can be ready to go in 20 minutes, from shower to door.  You smile at the thought of me choosing to spend too much money on a good bottle of wine rather than settle for a cheap imitation, and you know I practice the same theory in relationships.

Perhaps our paths have already crossed but the timing was off, or perhaps we’ve never been in the same space, but I know you too.  I know you’re smart and charming, you’re not too tall and your arms will hold me tight and make me feel protected.  I know you are funny and your face  lights up when you laugh.  And I know you have a bit of a bad-boy streak, but you grew out of most of it.  You still get that glint in your eye when you remember some of the things you got away with in those bad-boy days.

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Conceivably, you have met me but have not taken the time to realize I am everything you are looking for.  Perhaps we need to spend more time together, talking over drinks, laughing at the same jokes, looking into each other’s eyes and truly seeing each other and not just looking at each other.  Maybe when you look deep enough into my soul, you will see more than what simply meets the eye.  Maybe you’ve already seen it and are too afraid to say anything.  Maybe our friendship is of such great value to both of us, we are afraid to see what could lie beyond for fear of ruining the relationship we have now.  Perhaps our platonic romance is still gently fueling the fire that may evolve into a raging inferno.

Look at me again, but see me with different eyes.  Gaze deeply and see who I truly am beyond the perception of me.  Look at the cover, but open the book to see what the story is really about.  I’ll bet it has a great ending.