My nights become endless days
When you are absent from the waking moments of my morning,
My afternoon,
My evening.
They stumble on themselves in waiting for your visage,
Ambling evermore until your touch,
Your voice,
Your stories are here with me,
Travelling light as hydrogen in my heart,
Warm as summer waters against my skin,
Strange bright thing in the field of endless color and variation,
I don't know if I love you
But I know I am enchanted,

It is my dear desire to see you,
Not just once more,
But always.

Provide me with the magic mirror
So that I may finally sleep sound,
With the crackling warmth of your dry laughter still churning in my ears.