Is there a place where questions sit, pondering about this and that.
Fussing over uncertainty and relishing the lack of clarity.
Are their neat rows proudly on display,
Or are they slumped over, mere strangers caught together in a rain-storm
Without even an umbrella.
I taste your delicate words as they flow over me
Can I ever be satiated by you?
Are you waiting to save the world, again,
Instead of being pampered and adored?
Sometimes reality bites.
Who determines when to level set emotions and
More importantly how.
Ecstasy follows close behind.
Inhale until my lungs feel they will burst
Afraid to let go and lose the moment
Will it ever be the same feeling again?