Warm-blooded,
Cold-hearted as I,
Lying in the wake of his rugged presence.
Lingering like distasteful whispers staining a tongue, I search for abiding reminiscence of warmth where he once lay.
Palpable relics left desolate to scavenge,
Intangible are the memories abandoned,
And a formerly thawed heart behooved of a star-struck girl begins to solidify, encasing all fragments of his stalwart touch and dulcet breath under a web of diaphanous flesh.
Forevermore I ache for the repose of his brawny arm draping across my minuscule frame, providing a sense of tranquility, prompting my head to rest upon a broad shoulder, and a rough hand, suggesting years of grueling work, delicately lacing between my lean fingers, as if placing a final piece in a puzzle.
He would lay a pair of blushed lips to my temple and I would look up into his hazel eyes that would refract right back, deep into my blue.
And the sudden lips on mine, seemed as only a reflection found in crystalline rivers. Although if not for but a second, a moment was thought to be eternal.
Teeth tugged at my lip before the only space between was occupied by exchanges of warm breath that left me drenched in butterflies whose fragile wings couldn't muster enough power to cool the intensity of which I wasn't yet adjusted.
Butterflies that I would never see again.
Not extinct, but not possible to be summoned and the pain that follows is as persistent as that of a dagger through the chest.
Heart returned solid, as it was prior, and as it should reside, for it's uninhabitable and when shattered, slivers of ice erupt and smother things pliable with dense ire shards laced of melancholy, puncturing all securities and flooding me with yearning.
And I'm drowning in my longing for him.
