I'll add a line today if you do the same tomorrow
Shifting perspective back and forth from this day to the next
If we try perhaps they can be woven into something that is "together"
Instead of "distant" and "away," longing to be whole as I do.

Blurring lines might help this forced insomnia of mine,
Melding might ease your mind,
If we try perhaps we can fill each others chinks and bruises with comfort
Instead of words caressing in place of hands and lips.

Though I always love your words, I crave them physically.
Watching your lips move in the steady cadence that is yours naturally
and the thrumming and rumble of the air expelling through them
my ear on your chest,
my hand below your moving ribs,
riding pleasantly in time with your lover's lilt.

To know you "now", instead of "then".
With no more "Is everything okay?" because you know.
Coalescing what is separate, into one
My happiness becoming whole because my days are now with you.

So I will add my line today, tomorrow please will you?

May I
borrow
you
For a while?
I promise
not to hurt...

Till
tomorrow,
No later
I promise
I wont divert you long…

I know
you are
limited
In time
that can be taken.

I know
it deeply
Somewhere sore
that misses you,
and cannot be ignored.

So may I
Please?
Love you for today?

May I
Love you
In this fleeting way?

A lease on a loved one
is what I'll have with you

And I'll take this given time
and cherish it truly

So may I
Please?
Love you for today?

May I
Love you
In this fleeting way?

I'll fall upwards,

past the cities
and through the lonely stretches of asphalt and golden hills,
towards fancies and sleepless nights.

I'll fall past weeks,

of minutes
and through pictures stored and kept and thrown away,
towards cravings and fulfillment.

I'll fall

enveloped
and through the silence of solitude and the wanting it brings
towards curly hair and kisses filled with sweet words.

I'll fall into you and wish to never be free

So please...

Don't let me.

gravity rolls you down to the feeble drop
forced was your birth, but wanted
your progress stops.
I want to move you forward
I want many others to join you, in your fall
which is beautiful and stings when I want You.

you are fixed and itchy and I feel you most of all
past the moans and clutching fists.
I am without course now that you have been absorbed
never reaching the end and tickling the soft white flesh;
never reaching fabric in colors that You wear.
passing over muffled screams that no one hears
but those without lips, and those without thumb.

I want to cry more than you, little tear.
But you are all that comes, so sha'll you do?
Perhaps.

Days have gone by enough
that you aren't real anymore.
You are anything and everything
I imagine, but with me.

I can't think you
into my embrace
it's been too long
but I try, oh god...
Do I...

I could, I had,
in sleepy fits
thought of
your presence and
been sweetly surprised
by your warm press.

Sleepy fits that elude me now,
that sting my eyes and
wish for your kisses to take away
the pointless drops
and with them my desperation.

I am desperate, I admit;
for the beginning,
for the end.
For anything that isn't me
alone in this house,
waiting for something
wonderful to take me out
of this middle
and the hurt it means to me.

Sleepy fits teasing me with sheets
and blankets that know.
And their knowing is cruel
because I want more than anything
to be pressed close to you, warm,
and fulfilled for the first time
because you don't have to go.

I want the end,
the end of being lonely.

And the beginning of being with you.

She had meant for it to come out as a fact, immovable and unwavering.
But when she looked into his eyes and said
"We will see each other in three months," it sounded as unmeant questions do; lacking and without command of reality.
Had she looked into his eyes, truly?  Holding him there so that there was no way to deny her? And the truth that his absence hurt her? Had he said anything in return? Anything to placate?
She can't remember. Recalling their awkward moments was like trying to find something nice to say when someone complimented you and feeling obligated to reciprocate. Attempting to find anything genuine to give back for their kindness. It was difficult, unnerving and slightly comforting all at once. To find that she was comforted by her lack of remembrance was nigh infuriating. All thoughts that lead to him warmed and soothed her, even those that made her miserable. Because they were the pieces that she had of him, and so- they were precious.