The moments flash

And almost forgotten.

I, must practice distraction

Deluding my memory of touch

That goes bereft.

Either come come closer

Or stay away,

Having you inbetween

Exhausts me.

Your eyes, so not to see me,

Lay upon that which is easy.

I know you embrace distance,

How it smooths your messy soul.

You choose aerials

Where connection is angled to abstract

Matters of perspective

Yours is to love my shadow

A thousand blocks away

And mine is to praise

The grain-iness that weaves

Your face as I drift to sleep.

And comes to focus as I slumber.