Oh the dark.
Oh the presence of others,
knowing neither of us is
looking
or judging.
Oh sweet nights wrapped in the
foggy,
bewildered,
utterly abandoned,
sheet of drunkenness.
I long for you.
You being an abstract thing.
Unable to find you.
Even when you exist
souly in my imagination.
You are comfort
in the dark.
You are purity
embodied
and abandoned.
I reach
but my mind races away
wrapped around the flickering light of the T.V..
I'll find you,
the hopeless romantic in me cries out
I'll find you.
Even if I don't know who
or why
you are.