Echoes of a Song

I can only adore you with my prostrate
heart from afar, gazing at your love
through a monstrance. Your love is
alive but distant, and so my soul bows

down in supplication. The kiss that haunts
me yet gives me new life, extinguished
breath in bated expectation. Will this blood
turn red once again? My skin elevates in

longing for your touch, memory alive with
quivering recollection. This canyon in my
heart is empty but beautiful, a cavernous
space with echoes of your song. My sorrow

prepares a concert hall, hoping you will
one day dare to sing that song anew.

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