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By Mirabeau Submitted by Mirabeau Date: 2001 Aug 22 Comment on this Work [[2001.08.22.08.01.11718]] |
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...ten thousand miles, away my love, I'm going away, but I'm coming back, if I go ten thousand miles...a folk song. Oh that song will bring me tears wrapped in a scarlett ribbon, scented with you, lavender and bitter sweet regret. Hard to not long for the memories of us, talking laughing for hours, and falling easily into each other when love was an undercurrent to every blessed word. I should not weep for the might-have-beens, should not rage that this moment, closer than you have been in a lifetime, there is distance between us yet. But my heart was meant to hold you, and my arms are heavy from waiting so long outstretched for one who never took the last step to fill them. Is it enough for you that I am a pretty spirit, a blythe ghost to whisper to your dreams? After all that we have been, you wonder at this stubborn pride of mine, this petty caprice--- say that I know that you love me. All true. But I am queen of nothing so long as you are a life away, and ten miles or ten thousand makes little difference when you long for one touch from the soul that claimed you. |