Closer.

Stand close, closer, but I can't have you,
so many eyes to bear witness to something
not yet ready to become anything
else than a dream, and dream I do.

About the way your fingertips would
feel on ivory, how the music would
be born, a rythm only we know, we
wake with it thrumming in our blood.

About the way your lips can only
utter lies, so pitiful to stay
afloat, ink smeared around your smile
of new letters I never got to hear.

First we stared, in awe, a curious
sight for newfound eyes, a chance
to feel, to dive into an abyss of
dark eyes and bruised skin.

Now I have colored around the edges and
my limbs grow tired of waiting, for
someone to come and tell me I'm not wrong,
we both stare, feel, think, dream the same.

What I wouldn't give to hold your hand,
we're so young and ambitious, yet these small
longings are the fire that light sleepless
nights and daydreaming, I am enraptured.

How can I take this for granted? I thank
the universe for haven met you. Tired
lungs and swollen heart, I still dream
about you, warm skin and writer's tongue.

But I can't have you, too much to ask for,
I hope you hear my mind, reach across the
world and find me, still in awe, of you and us,
of the dreams we are no longer scared to have.