Her Hand

O the warmth of her hand...how I do long...yet the chosen with cold indifference meets mine own...to know this touch is to long for surpassing warmth...yet this endeavor is forbidden to both the longed for and the longing...where shall we meet truly on this side of heaven? Where shall our demons be loosed? For now I will pray for simple instants...fleeting moments of unconstrained yearning and for those yearnings to be met with like sensations. Where will we unleash our quelled passions? Where will we live out our deepest needs and desires and fears and doubts? I have chosen to explore that road traveled by none with wisdom and by many walking hand-in-hand with their demise...there is no way out of where we have come to stand. Perhaps I shall meet another...no...for there is none that raises a bending strand of hair to your unsurpassed elegance...perhaps we shall be contained and forever still with our unfulfilled souls...no...for I shall always navigate that lonely path gazing far behind and pondering my unlived destination would I have avoided the path of the secure and unliving. This fatal impasse shall be complete unless a single road is chosen by our beings...an undertaking neither for the safe nor the sane...for in this world of passion there can be no room for reason...I fear that if I tarry upon this precipice of pleasure and pain that I shall surely fall to pain...and in this land of desolation there is no redeemer save MY GOD and the desired soul. O the warmth of her hand...