020: Behind the Eyes


The dreamscape dissolves
and I awake
in the dim light of
small hours,
without you. 

My eyes 
trace a thin outline
upon hesitant shadows
roving the ceiling,
revealing the shape of
my diaphanous affinity
for the way 
you move.

Why must I
always ache
for forbidden fruit?

Restless now, 
I surrender to morning,
start the coffee,
and watch the world wake
from my window. 

My mind is
tangled fragments
of moments
where our eyes meet
and you know
I am thinking.
Soon, the city lights
are overcome 
by the sun
and I unravel
on the floor,
unsure of
your next 

Have I even
your mind?

Breathless and drifting,
I am untethered,
in this vast ocean
of what could be, 
yearning for proximity
to your corporeal form. 

Resigned for now,
to overcome 
distill designs
for your heart. 

A human with longish hair sits in a windowsill and looks out beyond the pane.
Window Pain

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