The Heart, That Is.

Numb...
with the realization of emptiness
so close I can taste
the salt of tomorrow's tears
freshly budding on the horizon.
and I wonder if your hands are soft.

Giddy...
with the sense of sensuality
overflowing in its nature
his torso tilting over me
for as long as it takes for me
to think seventy different thoughts of you.

Alive...
in a way words don't know
how to capture every beat
of this heart that yearns and strains
to be heard in every single
change of how it beats and thumps
against this breast
that can't decide what love is
but knows that it must have something to do with it.