even if it's not with me.
close enough for me to gaze
at you like a star ever-stuck
on my horizon, your light and
heat striking me
like a match and setting
me on fire (i don't want
to burn out, for you to sink
away with summer and
leave me in darkness.)

stay even if it's not for me.
only near enough for me to
see you like a ghost—
sealing two parted worlds like
lips, untouchable but here
beside me. i'm waiting
for you behind a window;
don't disappear down
the street where i can't
go without you taking
my hand (i'm too afraid
to reach out for you.)

you'll never be a man undivine,
grounded in earth as i am. this dream
of us is fluorescent, dizzy and
addicting as city lights in the early
morning when i can't tell one day
from the next breathing in
the fluid melody of the sun rising and
falling in your eyes i see in passing.
but it is enough because
seeing you makes me think, somehow,
the distance between us could be closed.