this distance molds space between us.
each day it grows more solid,
and we breathe life into it
through the tensions in our voice.
your thoughts stream out from every bit of you
making sounds and hymns--
but your pitch is too high,
and my ears are only human.
my words are coughed up
like daggers,
scraping up my throat,
hurting me in a place where your kisses
cannot heal.
i lean toward you but feel only
cold air,
and when you try to look for me
i’ve already shrunken away,
hiding from the sunrise
under my sheet’s sanctuary.
our space is no longer ethereal,
but tangible
and it lurks underneath my bed
in dark corners
in our eyes.
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