You have my heart.
Can you tell?
Do you feel its warmth,
do you sense its energy?
Tell me, I hate limbo.
We aren't together,
but you hold my essence.
I'm out on a limb, and not
for the fist time either.
So the next time you pick up
the phone,
the next time we speak,
you'll know what I want.
You can envision it as I do,
pretend,
but that doesn't matter.
As long as you understand,
that I'm sitting across from you
with my arms open.
You have my heart.
May I have yours?