It Will Take Time

The soft, cold hands of yours
that warm when they meet mine.
The moments I lose myself
in your dark eyes.

Your head resting on my shoulder.
Your long hair,
tied in a braid or gathered into a bun.
You telling tales.

The times you mischievously pop balloons,
or wear the gentlest smile.

This little heart aches,
wanting to be held in your embrace,
wanting to experience you
like a butterfly in motion.
Wanting the sun to shine over you,
warming your cold hands and feet.

For I know you are not afraid of storms.
You bear them quietly,
speaking the name of Radhe Krishna.

But,
it will take time
to learn how to bear
missing you.
A.V

(Sorry for hitting you on the head with the pillow so hard, Was just messing around...)

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