The drop of the call sends an anchor out to sea as my heart drowns in tears of the thought that you’re not near. You’re voice is so warm, like the golden orange reflection on a bronzed leaf in Autumn. It makes me want to lift off the vessel, over the crashing waves, though grasping for land I catch the wind. It’s chill stings my heart as it sinks to the bottom. I hold my breath for a moment in time, you are oh so near and yet so far, so I close mine eyes to visualize. My father is the Zoom only one who captivates these feelings of wanting, reminding me of the blessings of patiently waiting. I reel in the anchor that never once touched sand, as I dream of when the next day I will be holding your hand. I never knew of such a sound so deepening, that my heart bleeds crimson as if the monitors at hospitals had stopped beeping. I picture our life together, together, those days when we can be with each other. My heart is eager and patiently still, for my father guides my decisions and I will abide by his will.
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