When you came,
shimmering and unabated like a raging fire
in a tall stand of autumn oak,
(like a reflection on a choppy sea)
your graceful ambiance was an esoteric blue
like the eyes that light your face --
charged with the phosphorescence of your longing
and whose filtered, viscous glass
displayed a transposed image of myself
while we hovered within
the hushed hours of an unexpected evening.
Exchanging affection like quanta of energy:
invisible/infinitesimal,
and quickly building structure as if
pixel by pixel,
the immediate world was but an image
glancing across a screen.
And all that you were was tangible.
There in front of me,
smiling with the kind of warmth
that could only exist in a single instant,
radiating with raw honesty
from such a beautiful face.
When these photographic imprints appear,
flashed into memory without color or time,
yet contoured (like a line drawing) and spatially infinite,
pivoting on impossible angles
and just as deftly disappearing
along with my focused, good-natured intentions.
My thought becomes staggered,
and yet the imagery,
re-occurring in perfect chronological order,
frames enduring for a fraction of a second,
contain such annunciated cues to haunt me perpetually.
Sharing the truth loudly
and cautious to take each step,
for fear that I become selfish
and proceed much too quickly
to have all of you in one instant.
When I awoke this morning, early,
and even before the dawn,
the brisk winter air
was forcing its way into my room.
I was cold and empty with overwhelming desire,
met as though I were lying in nervous wait,
to have you here beside me again.
Laying together and gracefully interwoven,
like the very fabric of space
that ceased to exist between us,
when we could not possibly
be closer to one another,
and this falling rain; this minimalist lullaby
could be singing us back to sleep
while the cycle of your quiet breathing
and the subsidence of your heartbeat
softly hums the melody in canon.
When you turn to go
in the moment I have been preparing myself for,
that only exists in my imagination,
and yet so vividly it were as though
I was predicting future events,
like some love-bound prophet --
know that always I speak honestly of this,
where I would do nothing less
than smile, while watching you walk away,
having you believe that I'm okay.
When every fiber of my being
is longing to explode,
in a supernova of emotional intemperance,
exhausting my final ounce of energy;
gratuitously exploiting gravity
to pull you to me.
What this expression instead is hiding
is the focus of a deep concentration,
as I have begun to count the seconds
until I see you again.
But for here and now
before the generated vacuum of your departure
I wish it to be without abandon or concern
marked with simple veracity and unfettered
that sadness may never have a place to express itself.
Even if you should go,
forever into the ill-choreographed dance of life,
I wish you to keep dancing
and I will forever play the music.
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