Make Me Feel

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A long closed heart can never feel all the beauty

Within the world encompassed in those eyes of purest

Azure.  And yet, it’s me who guards my heart under lock and

Key, waiting, always waiting , for so long, for you to breathe

Enchanted utterances of life and lust that may free me from this

Never-satisfying prison in which I dwell, wanting, for so long wanting

Mysteries of your being, of your truth to be revealed in such silence.

Yet my eyes grow dull, weary from a life spent without the color of

Heated glances stolen in the dawn and dusk alike.  Nothing.  That is my

Everything.

Alone, I’m yearning, oh, I’m always yearning for the passion of

Rapture, the passion of which little girls dream, never knowing if

That kind of depth to feeling exists aside from the muses who

Stir men of war to poetry and emotion and those soft, oh so soft,

Touches of feather’s caress without the selfish desires

I so often, too often, wish I didn’t, experience here in this dark pit of

Reality.

Mythology is love’s true name for does it exist away from the stories told to the

Young minds who will seek, how they will seek, oh, seek on, for that

Subtle exhalation of breath and whispered emotion that makes us complete,

Oh, so complete, until that single, solitary, lone

Utterance of a word or a touch familiar and unknown jolts them to find lost

Love, hidden in the long closed heart.  Is it real?  Can you make me feel?

Written under the pseudonym J. Nicole Whitten

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