YEARNING

I reached out my hand to touch you, but it was all wishful thinking.

A dream, or a twist of my imagination.

Your smile and warm, soulful eyes beaconed me.

I yearned to hold you, never letting go.

When you were within my grasp, you slipped away.

All I had left in my empty hands were mere wisps of smoke.

Elusive, fleeting, billowing away.

We met, and my heart was so full of my love for you.

Yes, we met, well almost met to be precise.

You were within my reach.

Within the warm embrace of my yearning arms and full breast.

Our meeting was not to be.

With barely a suckle, scarcely an embrace, it was time to part.

We said goodbye before we declared our love for each other.

I saw your love for me, and you felt my love for you.

In that moment in time.

Suspended between the beginning that never was and the end that was.

In that fragile, yet precious instant in time, I knew you and loved you, my dear baby.