I touched your face today, from 500 miles away at 3:00 in the afternoon,
gently. I ran to fingers over your eyebrows and smiled,
and I wanted to call you at 3:31, after I leaned in to kiss you
to see if you felt it, if you heard the words my tongue
was speaking when it was tasting yours…

I caressed the calluses on your hands today and from 500 miles away,
I placed them on my thighs and moved them
up and down the way you did the last time I saw you,
and I wanted to call you to see if you could see
the silver strands winding around my finger…

New poetry and dreams fill up the blackness over my eyes
when I close them to think about you… harder
because I like to concentrate then, meditate on the memory
of your heartbeat. I want to lessen the distractions around me
so all I hear is the color of peace... and you…

It’s like summer nights on picnic tables and playground swings,
like overlooking the river from red clay bluffs
on a day where nothing in the words matters except
the wind blowing through my hair, telling me stories
of our future that I’m almost afraid to believe in
because I want so badly for it to be
true, like Christmas morning joy,
true, like baby’s breath sweetness,
true, like the collision of our souls when we first met… again.

Tonight, I’m going to climb into your bed
from 500 miles away to remind you of what it feels like
to be on fire from the inside out
because I miss you and I want you to remember to miss me
and that chill that you feel down your spine
will be the feathers on my fingertips
and the warmth that you feel
in your belly will be the satisfaction of knowing
that I would break the bounds of time
if I could in order to get to you
but instead, tonight,
it’ll just be my head on your chest from 500 miles away.

08/22/2009

Posted on 08/23/2009
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