My words flow not as freely as before

My words flow not as freely as before
To vocalize my love and sing your praise.
It pains me, cuts me deep and to the core
To struggle when I strive to count the ways
You are to me: the holder of my heart;
The harbor for my loud and storm-tossed soul;
The woman that I love; the one last part
Apart from which no part of me is whole...
Beloved, held in every thought of mine,
I walk the widow's walk with tear-streaked face
Until you cross that far horizon line
And I can hold you tight in my embrace...
I broken sing, until your drawing near,
My love for my love, too removed to hear...

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