Tragic Love

There is one in my life
who I have loved for so long
loved, cried for, longed for, anguished over
and meddled in sweet dreams with
held tight as his blond hair wraps itself around my finger
there is nothing
nothing that could eloquently explain this
what we have is beyond language
beyond understanding
just tragic of sorts
for I love him as a whole
as a beautiful whole
with nothing untainted, nothing unexposed, nothing unsaid
I lay naked right in front of him
my heart on his table
my mind on his spoon
my body in his bed
and he consumes my every confession
five years of this in the making
summers, nights, weeks, months,
of love
floating between time, space, and distance
there is no way to describe this tragic love
but an instant in the moment when you look into my eyes
as they lay upon his
or the tears gently falling as we repeat our goodbyes
touched in disbelief
and the hopes and bitter reality of my expectations
and his
rather right or wrong
it is
naked reality, naked truth
handling itself most elegantly
in a bed full of love and broken dreams
there's only one man I love like this
and ever will