How close should I stand?
How near should you keep me?
What’s the distance of least resistance that will keep this love in existence?
Part of me wants to touch you.
Feel your fingers and trace your thoughts.
Peel your anger from your darkest spots.
Wipe away your worries and wake up your wild side.
Sign my name in stories we whisper at bedtime.
Sleep inside the inside of your neck.
Curl around the curves of your back.
Soak into the center of your soul.
Surrender to the shelter we both hold.
Part of me wants to miss you.
Wish for your kiss and wait for your face.
Dream of your danger and die for your taste.
Stare at the clock and swear at the moon.
Crave for the days that you’re here in this room.
Longing for longer conversations.
Yearning for burning expectations.
Aching for that painful feeling.
Breaking for your perfect healing.
So where should I put me?
What should I call home?
What space is the right place to find together and not alone?
Near, or far.
Close, or closure.
Stay, or away.
Caught in between different worlds.
Lost in two deep distant words.
Stranded within arms reach.
Abandoned on familiar streets.
Nowhere to turn.
Know where to hide.
So I’ll sway in the middle.
And wait for a sign.
(Photo by John J. Vargues. Spark with him on the #besomebody app.)