A New Kind of Distance
Our eyes whisper
The words our lips long to part
Our fingers hug,
as through this painful elegance
we were destined from the start.
So sad you seem,
when painted through the bars you scream
Our palms unable to touch
but through rhythm and tones
are our fingers connected.
Inevitably living through this past,
as your hair seals my wounds
An outcry calmed by your lips,
tears dried by your heart,
and gently relieving my eclipse.
Sounds of perfection,
with this ringing in my ears
A voice healing all infection,
and free from the binding restraints
of merciless fears.
Sometimes a sorrow so deeply
immersed, is bound by the strength of never letting go
To take and give a
thousand beatings for a broken heart;
Never really aware of what you
But soon after, will
your anguish be improved through
closeness and a desire for intimacy.
A new bond to eat away the remorse and
share this newly discovered peace
with this convalescency.
So, to touch or remain celibate;
the answer being my only fear.
Should our distancing fate
tear our beating tissues apart,
or only make
perfection more clear?