I reach across the blue to you,
surging my tendons, fingertips to glance a few more
inches, feet, miles
my strength emanating from
the small simple sips
I take from the draught of your eloquence.

I wisp across the seconds to you,
minutes, hours, days,
tendrils of curling hope
straining like willowed boughs
in a mouthful of destiny.

It exhausts my veins to venture so,
and I would feign and let you go
with courage flat and valor slow
if I did not whole heartedly know
that you were reaching too.