It brings me to my shaking knees, as I cry out in bitter ecstasy, pleading with unknown realms of power, pleading for my love and I to be.

I long for the sweet pleasure of carefree kisses and the burning desire at the sight of my love. I long for the pounding of my burning heart, the heart that died long ago.

I hope for his embrace, to pull me into thine. I hope for the hands of my lover, pressed delicately into mine, and every time I look at him I wish to stop the time.

I yearn for his soft touch, against my glowing face, and find myself whispering in the darkness, calling out his name.

I simply am a shadow, tossed and turned in time, watching from a curtain, wishing him as mine.

I’ll always be at a window, looking from afar, praying my first love and I, will never be apart.

He sees me as the shy one, held by rattled chains, living by my passion, known for all my pain.

He sees me as the brave one, the one with bold a heart, the one whose very word creates a priceless work of art.

But does he see the person, the soul beneath the curtain. Does he share the same feelings for me?

But I’m only just a lowly girl marred by silly dreams, and burning with an agony and only he sets me free.

First love.