To You.

I want to talk to you

I want to see you smile,

grimace

or cry;

but as it is

I'll never truly know

that you'll hear what I'm saying.

I'll never be able to see your face

sitting at this breakfast table

and there's not much chance

that our eyes will meet

through the dancing haze

of a bonfire.

I'll reach out

a little voice in the dark

a match thrown into the night sky

hoping to light the candle resting

in your cupped hands;

just enough light for you to take another step

just enough for you to take another breath

just enough.

My soul will forever be yours

and though my words may yellow on the page

and the epitaph above my grave

will succumb to the wind and rain,

I'll be as a light snowfall

clinging to your lashes

and you'll hear me as the fluttering pages

of an old book left open in a warm breeze.

I'll never feel your heartbeat

or see any joy in your smile

and you'll never watch my chest

rise and fall as I sleep

or see my eyes flutter open

when the morning trickles

through lace curtains

and warms my face-

but my hand will always be in yours

and my words will swirl through your mind;

each chord singing out

comforting as best they can

caressing as sweetly

and lighting another step-

always one more.