Loneliness is loving you.

Being with you, feels like the loneliest place in the world.
Compliments like bank notes, you scatter and unfurl all around me.
Hoping I might catch one as I slowly fall back onto my knees where I belong.

Servitude my sentence, gratitude my gift and my reward for loving you.
Your laughter brings me comfort, reassurance that on the whole we'll be OK.
The picture that you paint, the landscape of our future, outlined without detail, abstract, vague and understated.
Confirming that my hopes and dreams are largely over rated.
Instead of celebrated, our love is castigated, demoted to the league of aftermath or afterthought.
A love that can be sold or be exchanged or bought.
Hand in hand we face in opposite directions.
Our union is our bond, a contract we refer to in place of real affection.
We stumble and we stagger along uncharted pathways and unfamiliar paths.
Unsure about each other, happy while it lasts.

Loneliness, our captor, our image and our brand.
conformity our sentence, sentiment is banned.
Never knowing what to say or do.
Loneliness is darkness, Loneliness my sentence, Loneliness is Winter chill.
Loneliness is loving you.