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longing

Here I love you.

Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.

~Pablo neruda

Today I found myself dreaming of blueberry pancakes

Vanilla mornings in your kitchen

And when I think of you I get an instant smile on my face

And you read all my diaries, my stories

And the poems of a beautiful mess

You have the waves of the sea in your eyes

And your eyes are not blue

But you have the depth of an ocean in you

And thousand of stories written on your skin

Prints of unknown places, people and sin

You taste like love and all my senses go keen

And when I long for you the days seem too long

And the minutes too many

As I keep listening for footsteps

But I ain’t hearing any.

Longing is a beautiful thing. It’s half poison, half hope. It is triggered mainly by wild things. Oceans. Nights. The sun falling into the horizon. Edges. Sweat. Mountain air. Loss. It doesn’t know reason. It stems from a space that isn’t defined.

~Victoria Erikson

Published inpoems