Fine rain falls and blankets the ground
blurs the images so that it resembles an impressionists scene.
Staring out the window lost in the fine lines of life.
I feel you across the line of time,
I hear you vibrating on the universe's string
I see you in my minds eye
I taste you on my skin, in a snowstorm, in a deluge, in a breath of air,
and I gasp, the only sense lost to me is touch.

You're gone.
You're only here in my memory when I cease so will you.
The scene below my window has moved on apace.
I know not these images, I know only you.
Day after day you return to me,
Day after day you fail to see me.
Day after day you sit and drink.
Day after day I watch you disappear.

This space above the daily pace of life was mine before yours.
I opened the door for you, yet you never fully entered.
Alone you came, alone you remain,
a pity though, for should you cross the string of time
your soul will see mine.