You say it'll be okay
because we can call and text and email
all day, every day.

But that's not good enough for me;
I need you to physically be here,
your slightly shaking hand on my shoulder
and your eyelashes blinking against mine.

Every moment I feel myself getting older
and slipping away from life and me and you -
I'm well aware we're running out of time.
We may have the rest of our lives to love and care,
but this sensation may not stay forever.
Eventually the hand on my shoulder will only be there
for support, and shaking not from a rushing heart
but a weak one. Yes, the love will endure however
weak the lovers – but why not play the game as long
as we can, until our youth is gone?