She throbs within me, from the heels of my feet, through the arches, up my ankles to my shins. My knees tense up in anticipation, my thighs and hips ready for action. From there on up it is a mystery how she inhabits every cell of my being. Every waking moment is a memory of her, a fantasy, a wish, a hope, a prayer. If I am not remembering her, I does not exist; I slips into a state of near unconscious. Impossible visions present themselves, and pass away. There is no human life without her.
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My feet see the truth of this world as I walk it alone, searching for her once more. They see the impermanence of every moment that comes, changes, and goes before the brain realizes time has passed. They remember the hours spent dreaming of her, as she moved further and further away from me in time, and the seconds it took to show her I loved her, before she would slip out of my hands again into the void. The bones and muscles, tendons and joints, feel the wax and wane of suffering as happy memories punctuate the sad reality of her distance. My body does not want to walk this earth without her, but I must.
The soles of my feet have been crying since realizing my love for her would not be recognized, at first, by me, then, by society, and lastly, by her.
"Soul of my soul of the soul of a hundred universes,
be water in this now-river, so jasmine flowers
will lift on the brim, and someone far off
can notice the flower-colors and know
there's water here."