You’re such a cute guy!!
You always look relaxed and detached
and a little confused or bemused.
It makes me want to enlist in assisting.
Your lips look seriously delicious.
Your eyes are green and serene.
You’re simply beautiful  sigh
(**** these binoculars are good!)

so the days slipped by, each one so alike I barely noticed the months pass.

I‘m embittered by isolation like Ado turned to salt
but outside, the flowers are dueling for attention.
I am mortared in this seclusion as Catullus rendered stone
yet outdoors, trees bask and frolic in the sun.
I'm locked in place, punished, like I'd smiled at Medusa
yet the squirrels go about their gatherings as birds forage.
I am gently constrained, but freedom nips at the air and invites memory.

I saw you on the lake.
You have a nice tan,
you glistened, wet, and smiled.
We waved halfheartedly, at a distance.
It was one of those 2020 moments.
where we're distanced by discipline,
with desires sheltered in place.
Mine are burned, as fuel,
for piquant eclogues or rest,
unused, like nuclear waste.

I am unkissable
I am unreachable
I am semi-innocent
I am under pressure
I have an impassioned mind
I need to be taken in hand
I need to love soberly

I see your face, and like a splash of clear
cold water - I’m startled awake from loneliness.
I hear your voice, and like something lost
and wanted, I feel a breathless interest.
A video stutter is a cruel and sudden reminder
- you are unknowably remote - and this magic
connecting us is just another of passion's obstacles.

Like Mozart’s Cherubino, I know nothing of love
but I am waiting on the runway, idling like a jet
I am burning my composure
I am inviting trouble
I have hidden gifts
and a steely will

Build your fort and be its watchman
Wound me with silence or cut me with words
Humiliate me, remove happiness
Put me in lonely company
Make me autarkic

I will battle with whispers
I will hide in plain sight
I will sulk in the now
I will **** with looks
I can cry in secret

I climb this hell in the pursuit of perfection
Yet nothing is sufficient to please my lack of self-satisfaction
All senses, all pleasures, my every motivation
Washes away as I push myself further into isolation