I think you might know;
I think you might inch up to my thoughts
every day just to peek over the rim.
I'm full-up with feelings
I nurture and smile at when
I have a second to think.
You press up against me
every day; you nudge me
and I feel my heart come up
to meet you.
You're with me,
in some form; ever-present
when I talk,
and sleep,
and eat,
and wonder.
You're here; right here,
the thought I enjoy
and the thought I suppress
to hide that I'd like to laugh,
or cry,
when I imagine if I
lean my head on your chest.
I think I feel you.
I know that I know you.
I'd like to be yours
when I meet you between
where our eyes meet
and what isn't forgotten;
a promise
we broke and decided.
My hair is long.
The cold creeps in
around again and tells me
of your arms
and warmth.
You're a long way off
and a long way gone,
but my heart thinks I'm yours.
I'd have to agree.
2010
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