Like a pleasant knock on the open door,
warming in the chilling cries for more.
I stare into the darkness pointlessly,
seeing through it all into just you.
essentially to and through.

You are my empirical proof of love.
My emotional reaction to sensation.
My emancipation in a world so cold.
I remember all the memories of you.

Sometimes I wish in calming fever:
That one evening you would call me.
That one morning you would text me.
That one afternoon you would mail me.
That one day you would bump into me.
That one night.. you would grow into me.

Tell me it is just you and me.
Off to wherever, forever.
I have nothing to lose.
No luxury to choose.

If it were with you,
you and only you,
no time to ask,
no hesitation.

I feel your warmth.
I feel your thoughts.
I feel your feelings.
All but paining noughts.

Some love never die.
Because it never was.
It never something became.
Took no shape in the reality.

I know that the probability,
is in and of itself insignificant.
But it is the slight disappearing,
chance that keeps me up in life.

That one day maybe.
That is worth it all.
When it comes,
to only you.

In my feverdreams,
neverending and eternal.