The heart can only take so much

Before the desolation of the world around it begins to become its own demise

We love

And love again

And hope that this time it won't end

But the things which are out of our reach are those that we stretch out our arms for

Praying that even if only a finger can graze it 

We can feel their warmth

But what good is a second, a minute, a graze

If inside the atavistic notion of affection has been lost in a sea of grey days

Perhaps we hang onto hope

Perhaps it hangs onto us

And it sits there in the back of our hearts

Lingering