Thirty one days

...since I held you last

My fingers tremble
as they put pen to paper
walking the tightrope that sways
as the heart pulls in one direction
and the mind pulls back in the other

The incline of the letters on this page
betrays my internal state
even as I want to express
but not give it all away

The mind knows that all we have, really
is this moment, the now
The heart, meanwhile
is ensconced in those bygone

Each day by myself
I have a dozen conversations with you
Some I let spill over into text
others waft away into the ethers
of the bubble that is my existence

The mind steps in, once in a while
so I don't lose touch with reality
and so if when I meet you again
maybe I can embrace you
wordlessly

2020.04.01 17:12