christmas morning
and sunday afternoons,
evening walks,
and rainy mornings
feel different
when you are one,
and not two.
surely my hands are made
for better things
than being shoved
into my pockets.
surely my voice was made
to speak,
my mind to adore,
my eyes to gaze.
mind craves mind
like the body craves body.
deep longs for another deep.
it is not good for man to be alone.
the unworthy wanderer 