Cold.

We speak in foreign tones and tongues; it used to be a code
that we alone shared, a secret language between us.
We held the skies in our palms, stretched upward and open to the uncertain excitement of the future;
We whispered our love in a code no man could break.

We used to hang the stars together with dreams we painted in the midnight sky,
as the oceans roared and the winds howled.
And I was safe in your arms, because I knew they would never grow tired of holding me
We were the stuff of dreams and legends, gods in our love.

We wrote letters of our love;
love that spanned ages;
love that was a golden thread of pure, unbroken steel
of love that covered miles and miles
and all the seas in between us.

You made my heart beat faster just by looking my way;
stole my breath, took all my words.
You had my soul, my spirit, my entire life.
And you had my heart.

Now we speak different languages; yours of time and money
mine still of the stars we hung together.
Yours of haste and hurry, mine of hope in forever.
Only now you’re too busy to be here to paint the skies.

I paint them alone.
And the winds and the oceans roar.
And somewhere along the way, you started holding me with only one arm,
As the other balances the other things you love, maybe even more than me.

And I lay alone and remember when we wrote letters of our love;
love that spanned ages;
love that was a golden thread of pure, unbroken steel
of love that covered miles and miles
and all the seas in between us.

Of how you made my heart beat faster with but a look;
stole my breath, took all my words.
Remembering the beginning, when you first claimed my soul, my spirit, my entire life.
And you held my heart.

You still do. Only I am cold.

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