The first time,
I saw you on a train.
I went home,
did not proceed to work,
did not live that September afternoon.
Bathed in bleach instead.

I saw you in my shower
and imagined
a funeral in blue.
I would have died in that waterfall,
all for the tender touch of your fingertips.
My mother,
cries over my corpse not knowing it was loved.

I saw you in space yesterday, love
Lover to the stars,
mistress of the moon,
I am coming to the conclusion I cannot live without you.