staying stationary with my window on this world
as travelers with their treasure troves
carry on casual conversations
with passing strangers perched on stools
in meeting places of fabricated intimacy
where one's life story is the only unattended baggage
left behind
with the self they are trying to shed
and the self they want you to believe them to be

every story becomes glossed with a sheen
of overstated oppulence
as the everyday becomes epic
and the mundane larger than life
as lies, like departure times slip easily
behind tired eyes and rumpled clothing

what is the distinction
between worldly
and world weary

in that pounding rush,
that blinding flash,
you hushed the world
into surrounding silence.
as if all the light inside me
found amplification in you
and i found in you
something that was the same shape and sound
of the emptiness in my arms
that resides in the darkness
of countless sleepless nights.

i search everywhere for just a glimpse of you,
each passing glance small respite
to slake my ever thirsty eyes
as my hands itch to tangle themselves in your hair

and feel the softness of your lips with my own

the dance of desire is dizzying.
i spend my days,
drained and distant from waking nights spent
willing you next to me.
willing the weight of your hand
pressing softly into mine.  

i think about what your mouth would taste like
in-mid sentence,
in mid-smile.

can we keep orbiting around each other so?
you, the fire fluttering at the edge of existence
i, ever vigilant for the sign of spark

i wonder if you would let me want you
i wonder if you already do.

it’s quiet in the night.
blanketed by silence my mind wanders without bounds
over moonlit miles
unfettered by time and distance
to concentrate on a single point of a beating heart.

focused.

just knowing that it exists settles me
and i rest easier knowing that maybe -
just maybe,  
my flying consciousness is met halfway in the night sky
and dances with yours under the cold vigilance
of stars burning years ago,  
their light on their own journey toward us,
bathing us in the other worldly glow
of shared dreaming
and yearning
for the same unknown.

I'm really not at work right now.

I'm really not.

instead as my body feigns the motion of purposeful key strokes
and as my mouth forms the shape of requisite responses to work place witticisms,
I'm really in bed with you
feeling the curve of your body fit against mine,
watching your chest rise and fall slowly in that moment right before you awake.

I love to look at you in the soft glow of the shuttered window
peacefully slumbering in my arms
as I brush my lips across your cheek
feeling thrills steal over the length of my body
when a sleepy smile turns up the corners of your mouth
as I kiss you awake.

all at once my
hands are gliding over your smooth skin,
lightly tracing the softest parts of you,
memorizing the feel of your body beneath my fingertips.
even as you drowse,
your hips rock gently against mine
echoing in steady rhythm
my own need to hold you closer and closer still.

with windowed soul and beheartéd sleeve i bare my thoughts to you
and paint my face and eyes with words that you could see me through
would it be that you echoed silent longing for me too –
that you could feel me reaching out across the page

we’re not destined to walk this road though i can’t begin to know
that such passing contact and few shared words could steal my dreaming so
and when you left i searched for ways to stop your turn to go
i almost didn’t catch your name

and as the world corporeal demands my top of mind
i search the seas for trace of you that i will never find
but this heart inside my chest still yearns for yours in kind
it is confounding in its ferocity

if we should ever meet again, whether in dreams or reality
you should know that your existence in this world has made its mark on me
and in my gaze that lasts too long, in that moment you will see
i’ve been yours all along

i am fashioned from the hearts that have touched my own
built from the briars of broken promises and dreams deferred
a sum of the wisdom of wending witticisms of those who have come before
you are all a part of me

but if we are but travelers here then let us share each dip and bend
let us write the story of our lives in the ink of inspired illumination
and the parchment of the memories mirrored in many hearts
and revel in the laughter and glory in the sadness that life brings