Masterpiece

Her hand finds mine somewhere amidst the remote

and a cup of coffee. She intertwines her fingers

seamlessly into the space between mine, and despite the

growing distance between hands and mouths - my breath is lost.

I wake abruptly to find a cold, empty pillow

surrounded by darkness. She is not here.

She’s never been. I turn my face towards the wall

In an effort to forget that I am still alone.

But my thoughts are vivid, and my imagination wild.

In my mind, I create scenes that have yet to unfold

of mountain hikes and Sunday brunches, yoga in the sand

and fifth year anniversaries.

A woman like that is the reason books are left dog-eared

and half-read. The stories she writes with you are far more epic

than any classic with a spine. She is a unicorn. A rare breed made of

honesty combined with class and intrigue. She is permanent.

She is beautiful.

A chance encounter has left me spinning in reverse,

Grasping for every moment she gave me. I collect them

Like seashells and hang them from the ceiling of my mind;

A celestial anomaly, a masterpiece, a reflection of her captivating soul.