Without A Touch

I’d be in constant thinking 
Of what it’s like to kiss you, 
Of what it’s like 
To be in perfect touch with you. 
I’d complain 
Of not having you more: 
A string of ellipses, 
A couple by the seaside. 

I wanted 
The song of the night of your eyes, 
The hush of day of your breath. 
I wanted to touch the very fur 
Of your laughter. 
I wanted the puppy 
That your smile is, 
Pomeranian. 

Your earlobe: marshmallow. 
You’re the prettiest in white, 
The prettiest to write to. 
I wanted your eyes 
To wander about my lips, 
For they are yours. 
I wanted the sound of kiss, 
And the kiss before that. 
I wanted an embrace. 

I’d like to blow your hair off, 
Free it from restrictions. 
I’d like to find out 
That ticklish part, secretive. 
I’d like to sing for you. 
I like the lightest feel 
To come upon us when we’re together, 
And the aching of the Earth 
When we’re apart. 

I’d like to touch you, 
As much as I wanted 
To give up jealousy, 
But just can’t. 
I cannot be near you, 
Like I want to. 
I cannot say ‘I love you’ 
And draw back, sweetly, 
An ‘I love you’ with it.

© 2012 J.S.P.