I see you in my dreams,
A white body in the water,
Your legs close to mine
Almost (but not quite) touching my knee.

I think back to the day
You came to your door,
Still wearing the warmth and stickiness of sleep
Which almost (but not quite) melts into me.

I wish I did not feel this way
But I do not seem able to stop.
Maybe winter will cool my ardour,
A question of almost (but not quite) wait and see.

I kissed your lips last night,
Almost drowned in cushions of flesh.
Should I avoid these somehow?
I wish almost (but not quite) that I could let it be.

I realise it cannot happen
The way I want it to be.
For all my so called liberation,
I am almost (but not quite) free.

My head and heart are in the ascendancy
But my body is in thrall to the drugs.
My diseased brain is at fault;
I am almost (but not quite) the real me.