love is
the beautiful
ache of frustration
without any expectation
as you’re staring into eyes
that make your head buzz
while at the same time
being blessed by
the feeling
of a voice
so familiar
it can lift you
for a moment
illuminating darkness
of a slowly rotting heart
gaining a sense of comfort
just knowing they are there
~Freya Moon
Filed under Poetry, in the year 2007/Print Post