It begins where all stories begin.
With a thought.
A hopeful idea.
A little whisper after the moon rises.
But as the clock ticks
And the hours fly by,
The whisper becomes a voice,
So clear,
So rich,
So true.
It tells me of things I want to hear.
Things I’ve fantasized about.
Things I’ve asked the moon for.
It tells me of you.
The voice in the dark,
Cutting through my shame.
The voice in the shadows,
Breaking and fixing my heart all
Over again.
The voice in the background of
Every poem I write,
Reminding me of better days.
Better days when your laugh
Shook the Earth.
When your smile brightened my
Worst nights.
Better days when your fingertips
Caressing my cheek,
Was all the medicine that I needed.
Oh, how I miss the days where I
Could kiss your lips
And breathe in your memories.
I miss when you would call my name,
And my heart would quake.
Oh, how I miss you.
The Divine One.
The Lover of all my Dreams.
The Savior in all of my nightmares.
Tonight,
When I look up at my Blessed Moon,
I’ll ask her to shine her precious
Light upon your face,
And keep you in her warm embrace.
I’ll ask her to remind you of how much
You are loved by me.
And it will begin with
Just a little whisper.
~KVP
Art: Skull Heads
Kim V. Poetry 
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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