All is well until I hold you in my hands. Even as time stands still with baited breaths waiting for those postcard moment of life to be delivered, my own thoughts are far from you. The fear of what a hug would do to you keeps me from hugging you. The fear of how you would react to a touch, a feel a kiss keeps me from touching you feeling you kissing you.
The times that I have lived have been longer than those of others, the thoughts that shape me are as old as myself, the fears that haunt me today; have walked with through all my lonely trecks.
It suddenly seems that we two, we are at two disparate ends of an otherwise not so interesting life, I roll back my longings, pack my bags of desire... and walk on. With me walks an alluring sense of disconnect.