Death Is But A Test

Dead nerves long to feel the electricity, the simple tingle of hands held. the simple touch that feeling cannot create, my mind longs for a carress, perhaps beautiful- admirable, envied among all, god's will glare, as divine love, touches within these departed souls. Death seperates- to only test such divine love, I know this love to be an envy, this test will be but momentary..... my fingers shall find you once more, and run themselves along, every inch, of the body, I know to be, my other half.