Come Back To Me - a Lover's Complaint

I don’t know how I should speak of you. Love of my life, my soul’s companion soul, A breath and heartbeat indispensable as mine, Yin to my yang and, too, contrariwise, Keystone to my arch, and cornerstone-- Because I cannot look into your eyes, Love, you cannot see me keen, and pine, And ache deep down, sheer to the bone. (Such is the chronic, chafing toll Your absence wreaks in me.) I’d screw Me up to chide you, but that would not avail; I’d rail against my lot and pound my breast If that would bring you here to me at last, Or seek you like some almost-holy grail. But since I cannot feel you next to me, Or softly sense your soul through clasping hands, How can I frame in words the buried deeps You plumb? My very quarks crave yours, so strong And fundamental my desire’s become. And so no matter what or how I say I love you, all inadequate and tongue- Tied, the words are merely stereotypes As timeworn as the Sphinx in shifting sands, And just as cryptic. Oh, come home; For then my eyes will redirect my voice, Inspiring by your nearness all those words Eluding me till now. Let loose the cords That keep you from me, and confer your grace.