We imagine a touch, gentle caress
Send an image to the mind impress
It’s not your fault I long for you
Or you for me; it’s what we do.
Thoughts yet here when you are not
Lingering ne’er to be forgot
Words shared not for a day or two
And yet I will still think of you.
Each day a new imagined future
It’s simple, false; a faltered suture
I sense a soul to which I’m drawn
It’s one who is like me forlorn.
No tactile comfort: circumstance
The fault of land and sea expanse
These words you read and feel and hear
Are illusions of my being near.
I want you now to think on this
I want to be your simple bliss:
Though we do not share the night
We share stars and share their light.
© Kris Blackburn 10/09/2015