Imagine meeting
Someone
Who has never met anyone
Before
Who has never seen the stars
Or had a conversation
Or walked through the park on a day like today
Who has never listened to music
Or eaten pumpkin pie
(Or anything for that matter)
Or loved
Or painted
Or played
Or laughed
Or sighed and said that it's getting late.
Who has never prayed
Or written
Or read.
With no tattoos
Or scars
(Inside or out)
Who is healthy
And surrounded by people committed to their
Well-being.
Someone without clothes
(Or any possessions)
Without a moat and a drawbridge.
An open book full of blank, white paper.
Imagine meeting
Someone
New.

Get me off dance floor—
One step forward, two steps back,
  .  .  .  Walking wounded waltz.

Fine, I will confess.
You have me.

You have me smiling at
the perfect shape of your perfect words.
Though half the world
create the distances between us
you map them with
the mere presence of you.
And I feel lonely no more.

You have me awake at night,
combing the depths of my half-awake mind,
searching for pieces of you
to go to dreamland with.

I sometimes blink twice
on a perfect moment,
as if to take a mental picture for you.
I sometimes rub my hands together
to feel how warm your face might feel like.

You have me.

You just do.

I see all Paris draped in molten gold
    Each window but an ember, young and bright
A dazzling, amber flame, brazen and bold
   Than e’en cannot be swallowed by the night

Coarse are the stars, like gems that loom above
    The clouds that sew the web of the blue sky
And in your eyes, I see the flame of love
    The everlasting flame that shan’t e’er die

A light, soft snow, like gentle feathers soar
    And land upon each dome, each roof, each street
The night is cold, the stars that glisten o’er
    Within the oceans of your soft eyes, meet

And I’m entranced by your sweet, tender face
    Your smile, kind and warm, and ne’er enough
Of words could say, how perfect is this place-
    Paris-the city of wealth-and of love