A Loss For Words

Last night I sat alone,

staring at a blank notebook

in the corner of a cafe. 

For the first time since I could speak,

since I could write,

I have not one word to say.

No words are worthy,

no prose pure enough

to sit next to your name.

The longer I sat,

the more I thought,

the fewer the ideas came.

You are made up of love,

not of words.

You’re more than thought " you’re a feeling.

Your touch is overwhelming,

your voice leaves me spinning,

but your existence is absolute healing.