Living-to-Love

your hands can't hold my soul anymore and our splintered hearts can't take the silence the muted promises sidle half heartedly through telephone lines; accumulating, hour by hour on the curls framing my face, on your cheek, on your neck waiting to happen           a touch, a kiss is their sunlight and rain whispered good nights are spread thin, phantom blankets as we lie awake in our beds you are the beautiful half of a golden hurt                my half isn't fit to be seen I can feel you in my bones, but I can't reach you there all I want is your warmth to have you, to breathe you in and hold you in my chest, against my