moonrock, lovelight;
dim, silent, mindbreath-
interleaving sunspace;
dark, narrow, corridor of doubt--
   far below this moment lurks
         an otherwisely ancient growing sense:
              of worldliness i haven't asked again
                  (yet you are this world-to-be);
              the smile-harvest nearing,
         your touch reasserts its ever-meaning
   of dancing in the starlight i ask
my yearning future self,
of playful rolls of joy
spinning off our lichen finger tracings~
of healthiness and utter-smooth response
    to sharpness i think with full bodied thought--
        (it throbs deep into the wellspring of our self-teaching);
    of healing i ask with songs beneath the feet,
toes vibrate dream-colored peace
       like the windblown comfort of forestal goddess tresses,
             i fall upward into you even as we descend through shadowovercastings,
               even while the earth-tremble breaks our calm,
                        even though the bees fade,
                                another nectar drips from all around
                                            your inner-golden, flowered canopy of lives
                                                            (i effulge this world-to-be you are!)

I sit at the table staring into the past.
Each memory warm as ice.
I wonder what you are thinking of.
Is it me?
Do you feel the same way that I do?
Does each moment we spend apart rip at you like a tornado?
Probably not...
Oh well

I hold onto each moment with an iron grip.
I remember the occasional twitch in your eye that accented the golden sparkle.
I remember the way your face would twist and turn as you made strange expressions.
I remember the slight slant of your eyebrows when you were surprised.
I remember the small moles on either side of your finger.
I remember each laugh we shared and each tear we shed together.

Where are you now?
What are you doing?
Are you thinking of me?
Probably not...
Oh well

I cannot stand being without you.
Each time I think of walking those halls without you,
of leaning on lockers without you,
going to classes without you,
getting in trouble without you,
I shudder.
Do you shudder?
Does the mere thought of life without me scare you?
Probably...
Probably...


I just hope that your sadness is not as great as mine.
I just wish that you are at least happy.

Yet I don't want to have to hope and wish...
I want to be with you.