"The Portrait of Longing"

I lie here, listlessly on my rooftop,

My brown hair sprawled against the prickled concrete.

Chimney swifts flying overhead,

The Sun slowly lowering itself into the horizon.

A gentle wind kisses my face as I knit my thoughts into the descending twilight.

Strange unknowns tend to haunt at this hour,

An insatiable yearning envelops me.

I want to rest my head into the arms of a lover,

Inhaling our souls from the secret language embedded within us.

The scent of my skin gives me comfort I am not alone,

Yet the flames still blaze beneath the veil.

I tirelessly write, asking my angels to blow the horn.

I have sought truth in a world full of confusion for so long,

Begging to understand the stirring of my lonesome grief.

I want to touch all moments of time, transmuting this ineffable suffering that is too strongly felt to convey upon this poem,

Wishing for my sole motive of life to be inspired by a fruition of true love,

To paint joyful words on every page of my soul,

To bury the things I thought could eat me.

I howl at what is now the night sky,

A voiceless echo reflects back through the celestial light,

A bondage of darkness can corner well,

But leaves room for mystery, just like that of the future...

The portrait of my longing leaves withered words in remembrance of the delicacy I carry in my veins.

I mourn for all who believe the stomach of time will last forever.

Should the stars reveal this faceless phantom of my longing,

The time shall be now.