When I imagine meeting you I feel it in my breath
My breathing alters
It must be excitement
I feel it in my inner arms and the tender place of the inner wrist
I feel it in my hands and fingers
I want to touch you
I want to see you.
My arm’s reach out as if to hold you
Where are you?
It hurts me not to see you
It hurts me not to feel you
It hurts me that I cannot touch your body
It hurts me that I cannot touch your face
Your ears were always warm
Where are you now when I’m alone?
Don’t ask these questions it is too painful.
But more painful still is that I cannot see you
Except in photographs
The visual cannot substitute for the sensual
It’s my hands that want you
My eye is not sensual the wat5 hands are
I want my cells t I’m ino touch your cells.
Were we not one ?
Oh love, can you be gone?