I’ve heard it said that to love is to die.
That the moment you love someone you have sold your soul.
The day that I met you I died.
I died to be embalmed in your unconditional acceptance of me.
I longed to open my eyes and hear your voice unelectronically
Tickle my hungry eardrum with words of love and light for my
I have burnt your image on my retina and when I close my eyes,
I see you clearly. Every freckle. Every pore on your manly visage.
Your chest hair peeps and whispers in rustles under your cotton shirt.
I am awake even in my sleep. Longing for that cellphone to ring.
Longing for that voice that says, “Hey… You crossed my mind, so I called.”
My soul is singing a new song.
I like the way the song sounds under my breath
As I listen to the melody of my eyelashes that sound like miniature harps
As I blink in anticipation of the day my eyes meet yours.
You have nestled yourself in a place that I never knew I had left.
It is still soft and tender and full of hope and life.
I know that you are here, ever present and ready
To catch me when I fall from false grace and the
Wolves and jackals try to coax me into their den to eat my very core.
How do you manage to pierce my tough armour that lets nothing in?
And yet whenever you invade my inner thoughts,
I want you there.
I want you to stay and love me.
Love me in silence.
Love me in stillness.
Love me when I push you away.
Love me when I cry and am weak.
Love me when I hurt and want to die.
Love me when I lose hope in myself.
Most of all, Love me for believing in you and your strength to be
The saviour of this heart of mine that got lost and was found again…
Frank Malaba © 2012