Of these intense and voyeuristic
Thoughts, feelings
Both startling and perversely pleasant
Satisfying glances
Into you

Into me

This vicarious thrill
Urging my own needs
Wants
Desires
Unfulfilled longings
Unexamined resentments
Some vengeance
That lies un-manicured

(I witness and own my ulterior motives
though I swear by my good intentions)

The hedge is thick
And would be trimmed with hateful design

But those moments
Glances
Are unimportant now
And should lie dormant
Until that dwelling within me
Is vacated

I sweep my own porch
As thoughts of your thoughts
Nag
My empath touched
My own soul dusty and reminded

I push my broom harder
(Sigh and huff)

Outside my porch
As I perch on wooden steps
Built of hard work and waiting

My own garden looks so ....
So....

Without touch

Yours?
No
Your words
And their touch
Have lent to rich soil

I worry I have gathered myself the wrong
Seeds to sow
in this sunlight

after this harsh Winter

But I do see
rich soil

so thank you

And to my own promise
see in this reflection
A virtuosic blooming of self awareness
And proper amends

And then I arrive at the here and now of things
finally
and...
I feel surprisingly comfy in this space

apologies for my tardiness

But oh, the distractions
They do take me
And my willingness

It aches