I will be with you
I will be with you, you are the sunshine that brings me out
of my curmudgeonly self. Angels possess less grace than thou.
Distance has us at a disadvantage except for the times when
these two prisons of flesh share stolen glances and bare
conversations that in hindsight were flirtatious and complimentary.
I recall stolen fleeting contact made real by objects and memories we share.
Perhaps I could live in an emporium of ephemera of you and take photos
of it for when I go on holiday. Perhaps we could play a game when we are
never together in the same room for more than a minute. If only. If only
we had the chance to build upon the ruins together making each other whole!
I could just stare into your eyes or listen to you speak, watch you move.
Such grace! The flowers in the garden possess less grace than thou.
The colour of your lips and the curl of your mouth – Oh!
No website, magazine or movie holds me as the gentle movements you make hold me inside.
Movements that are a balm for my tortured soul.
A tear, lies in my right eye and dries as I wonder how I will be with you.
I hear of you from folk who are unaware of the bond that now exists between us.
In secret I worship you as I nod and pass over milestones, birthdays and ages.
Then I see a your picture and then my love for you is reaffirmed.
Such things are both balm and acid on my soul and I wonder how I will be with you again.
