Any time I think of it,
almost every day, I think of it.

I am like you, I do not like you.
I think you think I do not exist.

I do.
So do you, and that is the only why.
I think you, so I am, and this is it.

This is it. The state of being left be
the realm of all possibility, where
no impossible thing is posed to ****
all our hopes with common fear of death.

Before waltzing together
To the melody of the
Blue moon
I danced alone.
Independent and yet feeling.
And then a gap developed
And grew
Large enough for
The space of two
And so I filled it with
The shine of
The Blue moon.

The Blue moon is my
Melody, love and solace
Whilst my body halts
To disallow the hole to
Grow larger.
To feel is to rip the hole
Wider.
And so feel,
I cannot.
The waltz was always
Mellow,
Almost melancholic;
And so it so easily
Unstrung - snapped.

Frozen over

The dance paused for
A few months.
Then the music began to play
So did the light
And I
Saw him
In the distance
Flitting in and out,
But remained
A dance partner.

While I swayed along with
The fluctuating notes
Others danced close by
And once I realised they'd left
And would not again
Dance close by
I shrunk back
Once again
Dancing alone

Frozen - crack.

And then he stepped back and
She came.
The water still dripping
Along her arms
We waltzed.
All too familiar
And yet she
Still withdrew
My hands unmoving,
Floating in the air
Where she would be.

And whilst neither left
Our synergy left me
And so my waltz -
In the rays that filter through
The cracks in the roof -
Is steady even when
The light flickers.

The gentle caress of your fingers
I won't forget
For your essence is still there
Even if only in
The Blue Moon