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As the Hands of Time Tick


I've been waiting for your touch
the same way children wait for holidays.
I've been yearning for the moment that
I could finally call you mine.
Time claims to be the best remedy to the chaos,
but all time does is remind me
of the duration of your absence.
Every day just before sunset
I reach to the sun to grasp a bit of light.
Trying to maintain time,
so that our days apart won't burn
to such a scorching degree.
I can't stand seeing each day end
with an empty space in my bed.

Every night I reach for the stars,
hoping to relieve the skies
and maybe that star will find you
and you'd find your way to me.
Often they remind me of your
beautiful eyes,
the way they enlighten the shaded regions of my soul.
Or the way your smile extends each sun ray until
the world feels a sudden burst of warmth.
All essences of nature trigger
the function of memories
narrated by my heart about you.
I'm waiting on the day that my days
can be narrated by your heart and soul.

I don't know where you reside,
but I'll keep waiting until my senses are flooded
with everything that makes you, you.
The feeling of your soft
and smooth skin of silk.
The scent of your perfume that resembles
a garden enveloped in a spring breeze.
The sweet taste of your shimmering strawberry lip gloss.
The melodic tone of your voice,
and the beautiful sight of you.
The sight in which I trip over my insecurities
and fall deeply in love every time I take a glimpse.
Until then,
I'll dream of the moment that we finally meet.
And think about the future when I'll reminisce of the day that we met.

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