Held

And though my heart beats

steadily in my cathedral chest
I feel stalled, like a broken city
bus on a busy city street,
that never leads to your
front door. I am unable to
inhale without feeling short
of breath, gasping under the
weight of missing you,
clawing for the surface in
this ocean of what it is to
be without you, and though
my desperation comes in and
out like the tide of the sea,
I remember that loving you
is a more beautiful kind of
agony. It gnaws at my ribcage
bounces in my lungs,
tears at my limbs--hands that
long to touch, feet that long to
follow.

My love, do not withhold
yourself from me.