” He had not touched me.
He did not need to.
His presence had affected me
in such a way that I felt
as if he had caressed me
for a long time.”
~ Anaïs Nin
sacred moments
I ache to be inside your head,
to feel what shall not be spoken of
but only felt by your most sacred moments
in time.
To see what your heart feels,
what you think as you observe your day,
those thoughts you keep stacked away,
always nagging at your skin,
wanting to be released
but not to be shared.
I want to know your hidden parts,
those who smell of roses
but look dark as your shadows,
like the whole of confusion,
of separation to the others.
Because the others will never understand.
Because the others are not like you.
