Today I feel you near, more than the days before,
more than the days where I could touch you.
Even though we walk different paths, in directions away
from the other, everything in my soul runs back to you—
only you.
We were made from the same fabric of sinews and tendons,
forever patterned and weaved in each other.
Our fleshly eyes got in the way, and yet,
all we had to do was close our eyes to know.
Everything in me fights to and from you, and at times
I feel so strongly that you do too, with me.
Sometimes I even hear your faint whisper,
“Let me go,”
and my answer is simply the same every time,
“I can’t.”
Painting image of The Kiss by Gustav Klimt (1908-1909)