Oh, late winter night, will your cold and restless winds carry my quiet confession— this rekindled longing— to the far side of the world? Can you promise they will travel unscattered, unbroken, through shadowed valleys and nameless peaks, across the vast, unyielding space that stretches between our hearts? I need my first love to hear the unspoken echo between the words— those memories of young desire, marked by fleeting moments of trembling closeness, when I dared to hold her and press an innocent kiss upon her lips. Please, let the distance not hush my meaning, as time has failed to quiet my longing. For I ache to hear the answer to the only question that remains: “What are we waiting for now?”
The Next Place
Loss and Longing
