Inkling

Do you have the inkling
the faintest of the idea
how even the silhouette
of your warm heart
wrapped around my
cold frigid soul
can instantly warm and thaws
my frozen feelings
lying in the eternal slumber
for a million years
to the core

Do you have the faintest idea
how your warm soothing
honey dipped voice
chases away all the
insanity in me and
renders my
soul
pure

Do you have the faintest
idea how the fleeting
touch of your fingertips
can ignite the
deep down desires in me
and rattles me
to the core

Do you have the faintest idea
how letting you go
strips and splits
my heart in million pieces
shards piercing
the deep corners
of my languid self
and abject life
and leaves it so sore.

Do you have an inkling of what you do to me, anymore?

This post is in response to the daily prompt Inkling