Has it been hours or days?
I really can’t remember.
The soft touch of your cheek
Against mine seems still-present
And long ago —
Simultaneously.
So I wait in longing,
Expectant anticipation.
Cannot believe this is
What I live for
And, then again, believe it with
All my heart.
Fatigue will not win out.
Though my eyelids wish to droop
With the expectation of sleep;
My whole being reaches out
And waits up for the
Warmth of your hand
In mine.
~ by Stan Stewart
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