Stirring up the darkness in a vacant bed
My imagination meanders out of control
Silently disappointed

In a careless hurry I clumsily deposited
A chaotic river of my thoughts
I had stumbled

Scared is not the word but,
I'm nervous in anticipation of what's next
Of finding that hidden path beneath your eyes
And spirally out of control into oblivion

Curling up in my sheets, beckoning for your return
I can still taste you lingering on my lips
And I yearn for your crimson glossed grace

To hold your nearly blank canvas close
Tattooing love scrawled notes and hand-drawn hearts
Feeling your tiny pulse that beats with the trill

But perhaps I look too far ahead.