Come to me, in the rain
Come to my room
Lie on my bed, next to me
Talk to me
Let me hear your voice
Your breath, your whisper
Look at me
Let me see your face
Your eyes, your lips
Lie with me
Let me feel your body
Your warmth, your touch
I wait for you
Come to me, in the rain
Momentary Fantasy
This afternoon I saw somebody that looked like you. She was walking towards me on the sidewalk, and when I saw her I imagined it was really you walking towards me. Maybe it was a chance encounter, or maybe we were meeting to go out to lunch. I wondered what it would be like.
Would I smile as soon as I recognized you, or would I wait until you saw me first? Would you keep walking at the same pace, or would you slow down and wait for me to reach you? What would you be noticing about me as I walked towards you? Would I say "hello" as soon as you could hear me, or would I wait until I was closer to make it more intimate? Would I even say "hello" at all? Maybe my smile would be enough. Or perhaps I would try to say something charming or funny instead?
Would your eyes stay with mine as I approached, or would my obvious appreciation for your beauty make you blush and look away? Would we lean in close as we greeted each other? Would we touch? Hug? If we did hug, what would you smell like? Shampoo? Lotion? Perfume?
How close would you walk next to me as we left?
I’ll never know, because it wasn’t really you.
Would I smile as soon as I recognized you, or would I wait until you saw me first? Would you keep walking at the same pace, or would you slow down and wait for me to reach you? What would you be noticing about me as I walked towards you? Would I say "hello" as soon as you could hear me, or would I wait until I was closer to make it more intimate? Would I even say "hello" at all? Maybe my smile would be enough. Or perhaps I would try to say something charming or funny instead?
Would your eyes stay with mine as I approached, or would my obvious appreciation for your beauty make you blush and look away? Would we lean in close as we greeted each other? Would we touch? Hug? If we did hug, what would you smell like? Shampoo? Lotion? Perfume?
How close would you walk next to me as we left?
I’ll never know, because it wasn’t really you.
Unrequited Thoughts
I thought about you.
I thought about what you were like when you were younger, and the people and experiences that have made you who you are today.
I thought about the glimpses of sweetness and vulnerability that I occasionally see through the cracks in your stone walls.
I wondered what your dreams might be, and what you want in a lover, a husband, and a friend.
I thought about the things that turn you on, and I wondered what others are yet to be discovered.
And I thought about how you deserve to be so happy and content that you wake up every day thinking that you're in a dream.
Then I thought about how my thoughts don’t touch your world at all, and how you never think of me the same way that I think of you. And I realized that I shouldn't be thinking about you as much as I do.
But after that, I thought about you some more.
I thought about what you were like when you were younger, and the people and experiences that have made you who you are today.
I thought about the glimpses of sweetness and vulnerability that I occasionally see through the cracks in your stone walls.
I wondered what your dreams might be, and what you want in a lover, a husband, and a friend.
I thought about the things that turn you on, and I wondered what others are yet to be discovered.
And I thought about how you deserve to be so happy and content that you wake up every day thinking that you're in a dream.
Then I thought about how my thoughts don’t touch your world at all, and how you never think of me the same way that I think of you. And I realized that I shouldn't be thinking about you as much as I do.
But after that, I thought about you some more.
Hole
There is a hole in the floor of my soul, and it has been there since the day I was born. It leads to darkness, to emptiness, to the unknown. It is an opening to the other side.
I can cover it up, but I cannot close it.
Even though it is covered, a cold wind occasionally blows up through the cracks between the boards. Usually it is just a passing draft, but sometimes it blows steadily enough that it fills my entire soul with its chill. When that happens no arms can warm me, no words can comfort me, and nobody can reach me.
It is times like that when I am most alone.
Often I forget about it. Sometimes the wind doesn’t blow for a long time, and I forget that it is even there. And yet -- even then -- I am still reminded of it from time to time, by the hollow thump that my footsteps make when I wander in that corner of my soul.
And every once in a while, on nights like tonight, I lift up the boards up and I peer inside.
I know that one day I will pass through. But tonight, I simply stare.
I can cover it up, but I cannot close it.
Even though it is covered, a cold wind occasionally blows up through the cracks between the boards. Usually it is just a passing draft, but sometimes it blows steadily enough that it fills my entire soul with its chill. When that happens no arms can warm me, no words can comfort me, and nobody can reach me.
It is times like that when I am most alone.
Often I forget about it. Sometimes the wind doesn’t blow for a long time, and I forget that it is even there. And yet -- even then -- I am still reminded of it from time to time, by the hollow thump that my footsteps make when I wander in that corner of my soul.
And every once in a while, on nights like tonight, I lift up the boards up and I peer inside.
I know that one day I will pass through. But tonight, I simply stare.
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