impossible to deny my heart this blissful ecstasy,
the static spark lights the darkness
in my soul when we touch
– you make me alive –
beautiful irony to get what I want – but
not expecting how dreadful and good it could be,
to love you more each passing hour
is the wish of my heart, my soul breathing,
beating to your sweet memory,
to revel in these sweet moments and forget
the heaving heartbreak
almost inevitable to come.
©eleanor clark
1 November 2009
