unbridled yearning.

by hiraeth   Nov 28, 2020


my head atop your chest, inundated with the sound
of your beating heart, i whimper and instinctively dive
for your hands, overshooting it and grabbing your
wrists instead. it pulsates. lub dub. lub dub. lub dub.
i hold my breath for a three-count, and exhale quick.
our breathing is now in sync.
there are easier ways to pursue insanity, and here i am,
wondering if we can finally merge our beating hearts to
a metronome – and do you think we’ll finally be in sync?

i'm always a couple of heart-beats behind; it’s stage-fright,
it’s a fear of swallowing the sun itself, it’s death.
i've burned my hands memorizing every square inch of you.
i've chewed the poetry of your words down to the marrow.
i've seen your body painted in the light of dawn and dusk,
...........................................and there is nothing more holy.

i let go of your wrists as my hands tremble under the weight
of realizing the infinitude of your hands | of you | of love.
you're parallel to my yearning, within grasp but destined
to never intersect but mathematics do not govern the heart,
and neither does reason. in sleep, i explore the multiverse,
chartering a route to you. i’ve spent weeks pouring over your
irises, differentiating the streaks of red, amber, and honey to
find meaning, and i can feel the gravity of your eyes motion me.

the sound of your heart beating breaks through again, war-drums,
it’s not adrenaline that fills me, but your name. my heart skips yet
another beat at the thought of it; ironic, how poets need lengthy
prose to scratch the surface of love, and here i am, having found
your name the perfect word to summarize love. whimsical like
cherry blossoms coming to peak bloom in the weeks of early may,
poignant as the first rains of april and heartwarming like the first
snows of december; your name captures it all. lub dub. i sigh and
breathe again, closing my eyes to find stillness once more.

i place my left thumb under my right wrist as my right index and
middle finger nestle under your wrist – taking your pulse and mine,
breathing in and out, fixated on the swirling pool of cinnamon in
your eyes. and we synchronize, i gently bring my forehead to yours,
silently speaking through stolen gazes. my heart is now yours.
maybe this isn’t love, maybe it’s peace masquerading as love;
what i do know is that my heart feels a million pounds lighter,
like it jettisoned weight, a rocket in second-stage.
there is only you and i –
you and i,
lub dub.
you,
and i.

5


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Latest Comments

  • 1 month ago

    by Mr. Darcy

    A wonderful piece of writing. How does one capture the essence of love/ being in love? Do we search within an, eye/soul, a heartbeat/s, a name? Yearning for that perfect capture is evident in this piece.

    Well done.

  • 1 month ago

    by Skyfire

    "you're parallel to my yearning, within grasp but destined
    to never intersect but mathematics do not govern the heart,
    and neither does reason."

    My favorite lines. 'Parallel to my yearning' hits so hard for me; I know the feeling. This whole poem is such an interesting exploration that you sum up perfectly near the end with "maybe it's peace masquerading as love." Can you have peace without love, or love without peace? I don't know.

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