while in love...(?)

Conversations – for me it is more than the talking. It is the after wards. When I am alone with my thoughts…or shall I say your thoughts.

Long after you have stopped talking, your voice caresses my skin. Carefully going over every word, every phrase – like a jealous God I guard my treasure of memories.

How is it that you can give even the most commonplace "how are you", a profundity that’s otherwise missing from the three syllables. And why does every comment of yours feel like a glimpse of all that is good and believable and possible in this crazy world.

Is it part of some cosmic plan that you – a stranger to my yesterdays – should govern all my tomorrows?

I crave the softness of your whisper. Crave with an intensity that leaves me so hungry, I have to press myself against this cold, dark floor for some – any – salvation.

I try to replay all your pauses, and exclamations. Your many chuckles, and that grin that is so uniquely yours. I try to capture that lilt in your voice, that wry humor, that understanding. And when I’m still unsatiated…I reach with seeing hands – for the telephone.