destination unknown
surrounded by people yet feeling alone
what have I done?
the world’s greatest game
is when you miss the stop
but you won’t feel the shame
le petite mort on replay
and for her bottom I was the perfect top
who’s there to blame ? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Your heart will always beat,
With or without my love.

But only you could have shown me
Where I can touch it.

The fifth intercostal space,
Beneath your ****** line.

This sacred place under your breast,
The apex of your beautiful heart.

Now when I find my own,
I can only think of you.

I am so full,
Little laughs burst out of my mouth
And skips hop from my feet
Twinkles sparkle out of my eye
And happy sighs
I am so full
Kisses escape my lips
And loving words tumble out
My lungs contain shouts
Of excitement.
I am so full
I’m fat with love
For you.

To lie down with you  in the peace and quiet
To feel your soft touch and body near mine
Pressed against me
Your warmth and taste
Your fragrance and pulse
To hold you and be near you
To feel whole and complete
Next to another whole complete person.
To have you want me and to want you too
To save this touch and put aside my longing
To hold you and pick you up with ease
Lean into the here and now
For the rest of the day
And dwell into the eve.

Am I drunk? Or are,
Oxytocin, dopamine
Coursing through my brain?

If Love is only
Some chemicals in my brain,
This brings me comfort

Proof that Love exists,
Does not reduce its meaning,
Just the opposite.

You are the sea.
You are cruel.
You are cold.
And I love you.

I think about you when I see a barefoot rider.
Or hear Fields of Barley or Is this Love.
Lime cordial doesn't taste the same.
And an egg is just an egg now.
Crying Little Birdy, dappled light and swaying curtains
Or alto voices that are lower than mine but just as bright.

I think about you when I use a dishwasher stick
That has the scourer with the detergent in it.
When I sit over the crack in a couch.
When it rains and it's cold.
When I have cold feet.
When I slip into cool sheets.

I think about you when Father Ted is on.
Imagine you in Paul Kelly songs.
When I smell cut wood, sanded back.
Or salt air.
Or see grey hair and weathered loved houses.
Or women in vests with lilac blouses.

I think about you in the water,
When I'm in the shower, or at the beach.
When it rains and when I drink.
In the blue and green and sometimes silver.
Or when I'm smothered in an unrequited love
That isn't yours.

2020 Vision.

There’s no flying cars
We’re not living under the sea
Mars is still unsettled
Mail is not sent by rockets
But in 2020 all apples have faces now.

Apes have not evolved to work for us
Aliens have not made contact
We still have ten toes
We can not yet breathe under water
But in 2020 we sing songs instead of talking

There is still hunger
There is still war
We can’t yet teleport to a holiday destination
Or read each other’s minds
But in 2020 dorkiness got into the water supply.
Hibernation became an art form
Hermits live in communes
Elle Kay and Veda were never strangers again.

Christmas is here.
Your absence is my present.
How lucky I am
To have the gift
Of missing someone like you.