Apart. Our own heart chambers far from,
Our voices, far from our laughter. We dream,
Consistently of motivating thoughts. keeping,
our eyes glued to those balls of light, we call stars.
Maybe someday. Maybe. You and I.
Maybe: Assumes distance through a heartfelt,
probability to make matters more alluring and less,
Sensitive. We don't cry, though we well up behind,
Dusty, still eyes.
One harsh jab to the heart. It'll break into. Pieces.
Reach. Let our hands reach for each other across,
The untouchable horizons before us. Miles between,
And we still know we long for each others unreachable,
A simple caress. I'll know we made it.
Every day. It grows stronger. The connection wants to feed,
Every time we breathe, it speeds along time. In prayer of a better day.
A day where we can finally meet.
When we hear our voices sing. Not on the telephone.