Your words are the things I miss most. Hearing them in my day brings more warmth than a rising sun, than a glove in winter, than knowing you're the one, that makes my heart splinter. I have to know. The feeling inside has been long growing, flowing, conversation sowing, like a needle-back and forth, it only points north. It's the last thing I need, but the only thing I want. Do I sabotage my defenses? Put up a faulty front? I don't present to confuse, last on my list--but there are times when I wish love did not exist. Maybe not that, but games must fly. I'm not ready to deny, that my pain is in full supply. This is the conversation of my mind--how can you say that love is blind? It's out in the open, unconfined. With you it's simple. Beauty. Fully defined.