seven hours, and already
i miss you.
the calm of the past three weeks,
incomparable and only slightly tinged with sad,
is shattered;
your love is a thunderclap,
a lightning bolt,
a horizontal tornado that whips through my body.
more than a craving, more than a wish, more than an ache;
my whole life is somewhere else, waiting for me,
and i must meander through the next ten months in order to find it.
your window bright with sunshine
in the morning, turning over
softly and smiling and saying,
hi.
the long, long hours in between you and i,
the miles, the money.
everything about this is impossible,
except for the will and the way: west,
through the mountains,
across the golden fields.
this love is impossibly beautiful,
a breathtaking example of the human spirit.
i will be with you if it weakens me,
i will love you if it breaks me,
i will find you if it kills me.
take me into your arms, take me into your bed,
wrap us up in strong arms and white bedding and
don’t let us loose
till morning.