to yearn for my darling
is to be free of everyday turmoil
the wanting, waiting, wondering
becomes much more meaningful
than the endless abhorrence
of everyday life
my loathing becomes directed
towards the miles between us
as if we are two pieces
of a long forgotten puzzle
scattered on separate sides
of the surface
attempting to piece ourselves together
falling to the floor
with only the slightest whisper
in order to gain just one more inch
of closeness.
but puzzle pieces disconnected
are empty of meaning
and are doomed to be lost
under tables and cushioned chairs