Flirting with martyrs

It's clear enough for my
grasp.

The air does not spare me from
separation (you
belong);
no space between
would be
a filler for this pain
that has no place in
today's poetry desperately
avoiding being average.

No stanza could
cage the pathetic
state of searching
anyway.

But I am not going to echo
around the streets waiting for
a response from people
who are looking just as hard.
To elaborate,
they know what they're looking
at and for,
and search terms are
unattractive babe,
modern partnering and the like.

For Helga