Your song

Your song

Is elusive,

The barest sliver of a smile,

Subtle like the freckles

Sprinkled lightly across your skin.

But still strong,

Like the granite muscles of your marble arms.

It has something of a thunderstorm

Flashing in and out of the horizon,

The electric static that surrounds us,

Forceful but distant,

Untouchable but real.

It is warm

Like the heat that flashes between our skins

As we sit, barely touching

Almost silent

In our companionship

That somehow always blends into the crowd,

Yet for me is perpetually ecstatic.

Your song

Is one that has somehow

Not yet been written,

And may never be,

Like our story.

Nevertheless, it continues

To echo in my head

Long after you are gone.

And, as elusive as it remains

There is nothing I can do to drive it away.