Language of Love
By: Opal Soul

Standing there, leaning against the doorframe
My fingers ache to touch you
Sitting here, my heart cries out your name
As my lips, frozen, long to caress you
Smiling there, your mouth in a grin
My mind wills for you to love me
Walking here, you start to speak,
And I panic; where can I begin
To say I love you, adore you, need you?
Ache and long for you so that it hurts
How can I begin to express feelings so deep?
How can I pour my soul into words?
Before my mouth can move itself
I'm in your eyes, your mind, your heart
And words are but formality...

Written/Copyrighted: March 25, 2001.
Wrote it for . Bet I won't win; I read the winners there and most of them left me feeling cold, like some ice just blew over me. shrugs Please make me happy and distract me from school by reviewing. Flames, comments, feedback, suggestions... all are welcome at OR .
Thanks to: my wonderful spell-check and the man/boy who haunts my dreams...
"If I am a jewel, as a dear friend once flirtatiously dubbed me, I am an opal. Fiery ice swirling in the milk-white of innocence. Passion and compassion. Myself to the core." Surprisingly enough, I wrote that. It's just to clarify any questions on my strange pen-name.