text to text

always knew it would come to this
that moment invariably outlined in text
bookman old style and my lilac vs. your black
text and all the spaces between where I lay out
heart on a string, closelined across the words
and soul hung out to catch the colour if only
it would fall down to where I wait
always for you, always where I know
that you will leave me one day
alone with my words. words that don't fill
the gaps in my explanation of emotion
when you're not here to see them,
to read them and go between the lines
to where I wait with heart all out
and soul like white canvas strung across
waiting for the colour you bring
and knowing you already left a while ago.