I love watching your hands
in the illuminated darkness,
cells touching cells, atoms colliding,
it sends shivers down my spine
just to watch them move.

The delicate heaving planes of your body,
pale and unalterably beautiful,
moving with a tense passion
almost as a heartbeat does
not desiring to, but destined
blur the distinct lines of my reality,
and make the hot air of this room,
supercharged and supercooled.

I think about how haunting words,
ring in the memories
of those who have heard their
truth,
but this isn't about thinking,
this is about doing,
this is about embracing youth.

This is about crossing
that unalterable distance
that is so frail
yet so thick,
and fraught with imagined peril,
where the beauty comes,
not in the travel...

but the destination.

note: I realize I broke the rythmn of this terribly. That's why I'm calling it a work in progress.