I lay here
In bed
Bathed in soft orange light
Thinking of you
And your phantom
Touch
And the tears that sting
My eyes when I think
Of you
And your soft, golden skin
And the pale amber that bathes my walls
And my face
And spills into the night
At 2 A.M. when I’m cold
And pulling
The rich velvet
Blanket of your laugh
Up to my chin
In the dark.

I understand you in a way no one else can.
I know to twirl my fingers in your hair all day,
How to play with it in just the right way,
So it's tousled just enough that it looks like you had fun,
But not like you just woke up drunk.
I know I'm all you need,
I'm the one you've been looking for,
No one matches you like me,
We go together like bread and cheese.

Darling please just let us be,
Let all the others go,
I'll always be there in the end,
No need to try them on for show,
And I'd rather just skip to the end.
Let's avoid all the drama,
All that you need is here before ya.
Now let's go to a library,
And you can pick out what we read.
Then at home we can cuddle,
In our fuzzy socks, my heart in a puddle,
Because I just adore you, my little bun,
I love you more than the sun.

Come to me, here, from Furness Vale

To this idle county, where
a dozen stations stand in
wait to loan the City her suits
and collect them, weary, at the day’s end.

Descend the chasm that splits
England’s pleasant pastures
and concrete miles; a balancing
or cancelling act that renders neutral –

but each Spring I watch from my window
the azaleas that blossom in my
neighbours’ garden, the petals peeling,
revealing, coming undone by the swelling heat.

Be here, Scarlett, let me watch
our shadows spread across my wall
as the shifting sky paints the room,
like burning embers.

And, sun sinking, let us go to bed.

i've never met you
but i miss your smile
your voice
nonetheless

i miss the way you laugh
and your bashful smile
your way with words
and your ability to feel

nonetheless

Why did you say you             L #  $ @                  me?
Was it a lie? How can I learn to believe you, when everyone's told me otherwise?         ^           Is it too late?
                                                                ­         %                 Am I too late?
Do you no longer care for me? Am I no longer worthy or your attention, when I don't sing your praises? When I don't
         #                        *                 hang onto         ;
                     -               every word                                      ~         &
                                         +    you say?                    =

If I told you I             ! & % E            you, would that change a thing?

Is there anything I can do? Were we ever truly friends? Was I just a game to you?
          +             Am I that disposable
                                        that replaceable                  =
                                  ­             that obtainable?
                                 .                                                               @
                ^                                        .
    ­                                                                 ­           .
                                     *              ­                                    Will I ever learn?
When will my eyes stop meeting yours? When will they stop searching for you in every room and -                            &
           &                   -  every city and                       &
                          &           - every particle that grazes my eye?      

Why do I miss you? What can I do to make this better? I know it's not my job to but with you- with you I feel like I have to, you know? Why can't I lie to you ?

                                                            Do­
Do                                                              ­     you
    you                                             Do   you         still
                        L                  @               ­                          %   !   V   #
                    $               0                                                                ­          
                                                      ­  V      &
                                               ^                                 3
                                                               ­                               
                                 ­   still
                                                        ­                                             Me ?

"Oh Charles, Oh dear friend... what shall I do? She is somewhere far and I can't reach her hand. I can't tell her with my mouth the things I need to say. Only though letters- through ink and paper can I say anything at all. And I'm no good with words, Charles! Why, I- I'm only an animal, a dog who will lick you and look at you with those full moon eyes to tell you that it loves you, and, and I can't take it anymore, Charles. I miss her. Oh I shall go mad if this continues!"

"I thought the wait would make you king, Laurence? What's changed?"

"..."

"Why don't you tell her?"
"Tell her. Tell her what?"
"Tell her the way you feel."
"My dear Charles. It... it isn't yet time. I've barely spoken a word to her. She’d think me truly mad then!— if I were to tell her about my childish yearning.
She's been ill, you know. Away, being taken care of by those blessed enough to know her. And me, I'm nothing to her yet; I am ******, too young and dry still, without the waters of her baptism. Oh if only she were near..."

"You'd fumble about and tip the tub with all its water, you would!"
"Oh hush..! At least then she'd see me. In all my fumbling and stuttering, Charles. She would see me."

"That she would, dear friend. That she would."