“How beautiful you must be
                    to have been able to lead me
                    this far with only
                    the sound of your going away”
                                      -W.S. Merwin
                                      -The Moon Before Morning


Closeness became an illusion
like one darkness passing slowing
through the eyes of another


Alone with furniture
that will not hide its face

I wait
counting the ghosts
that spiral up from the wood’s grain
and tick by


When I return
I am silent
I do not wake you

Thinking this does not concern you
I let you sleep


and I must leave

You try to touch me
but the blaze of these moments
will not allow it

I am too protective
of the light that coats my morning


We do not exchange the colors
spreading within us

One light passes quickly unnoticed
through the eyes of the other