Cooling Off the Fire of My Longing

The breath you took before your body turned limp, felt to me like rising too quickly, feeling a rush of blood to the head. My head became light and my body was drowsy, as if I was dowsed with an antihistamine. My vision faded to black and even though I blinked and widened my eyes, I couldn't see a thing; not even you. Come back to me. I will nurture your weak body back to health. I wouldn't hesitate to solve you with my kiss. I squirmed nervously in my seat trying to keep my composure because I wanted to do the things that my hands are not powerful enough to perform. I looked at my palms and wondered what they were worth if I could not even ease your pain? 

I paused to examine myself. My body: paralyzed from the tension racing through the electrical circuits that replaced my veins. My foot: shaking uncontrollably, counteracting my anxiety, secretly calming me. My eyes: moving swiftly, gazing upon every surface suspiciously as if it had wronged me. Moments passed where I sighed and changed positions to break up the monotony of this helplessness. I could have sworn the entire theater heard the beating of my chest with every silent moment.

Buzz Buzz. Don't worry okay? Buzz Buzz. She will be fine. Buzz Buzz. Hey relax, she is doing okay. . . Buzz Buzz. Stop worrying. Buzz Buzz. Buzz Buzz. Buzz Buzz. . .

Patience is really testing me. I must sit back and let time heal this without interference. The gap in time and space between us is agonizing. Because in my head, I'm pacing in your waiting room, I'm staring at my shoes. I blink again, and I'm sitting in this theater, even farther away from you, going in and out of range, hearing words of poetry but not comprehending what some of them are because my mind is elsewhere, my thoughts are with you.