138. The inability of words

As I wait eagerly to open my heart to you,

each and every moment feels like a decade.

My pulse raises like that of a man in a desert 

running around in search of a little shade. 

But when the time finally comes, my words are long gone,

like the moonlight that slips away quietly at dawn.

And my heart ends up melting like ice cubes in heat

every time I hear your voice, so soothing and sweet.

-Rithin.

Hues and Dews Poetry