The things between

I see you in this half light- I dream you in my bed at half past midnight… and I hear your smile… yours is the first smile I have ever heard from a far. I love the sound and smell of you.. I love the way words form on your lips- I sit back watching your eyes dance, fascinated by your way.. I give to you, my recompense.

It isnt mine to give. How do you love a thing that you cant really have? How do you prize a gift that can only go so far? Do I have the kind of altruism this would require. What will be left of me? What will become of the things between, the tendrils of hope, of love, of aching , visceral yearning… where do those things rest?

Who will speak for the living breathing thing created when our hearts touch, will you? Can you? I would, if it were right, if it would help breathe new life into a dying ideal. See this could all be for nought, but for me there has never been another thing quite this real.

I give myself over to the process of courting two by one, making something bigger, something stronger – letting go of all suppositions.







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