I often ask myself when the last time I had a tear of joy was,
The last time I touched someone and all the hairs stood on end,
That my heart caused me to sigh for lack of breath,
And for the intensity of its beat.
“I can’t remember the last time I felt this good”
The words she said to me that I say to myself,
The very sound of her tone, reflecting on a moment
Passion, love, thoughtfulness, sensitivity.
I want to say I love you, but it is too soon,
I just look at your eyes and murmur “you, you, you”
And all I can think of is how happy “you” make me,
And how happy I want to make you.
Happiness I feel when you touch me,
Happiness you feel when I massage or touch you.
A feeling forgotten, or once private becomes public,
For a moment, in a moment, forever a part of us,
Like words written in stone, we come to look back upon,
When we want to feel happy but are alone,
Love, you, you, you…

By Ryan Anthony Gibson

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