There are moments throughout my angst of days where ramblings play with emotion and stunt the layers I have built within myself. A process in thought of the writer takes over of research and forced attrition, or my own self destruction. There are moments of space to remember and call from the madness that embodies my spirit and invades the senses. Through the hurried thought and passages of guilt, in prose I find you.
Through you, is a quiet of thought and calm of body. Through the rush of self doubt your arms remind me of faithful accomplishment. Even in your absence your pulse is felt and your existence is overwhelming in bliss. Your presence forever stays within the bounds of my mind and grabs within the infinite of my love for you. My muse, you have captured my heart, freed my mind, and encouraged my creativity.
With every breath,