There are days I can still recall,
the way in which my breath staggered
as I thought I could hear you approach.
All the analogies of time suspended
were experienced simultaneously
and, feeling the warmth of your breath mix into the air,
irreverent of everything except you,
I was whole and could feel every part of myself
reeling in anticipation of retreating from sight with you.
I still linger in the in the dense aroma of our intention.
Why aren't all amourous encounters so sharp and infinite?
As is the nature of unrequited affairs,
we fell apart and out of touch...
and I am responsible for the distance
that spells never in the space between us.
A cocophany of the unsaid.