We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Almost.

i owe myself
an apology
for who i used to be
and a promise
for what i will become

In a drop of you, I lost an ocean of me.

Calliope
has spied in me
a hollow dark and cold.

She gives it free,
that panoply
of new ideas bold.

But as of late
that dinner plate
of musings has been bare.

Could it be
Calliope
Has little left to spare?

© Jason Comeaux 4/12/2019