Continuum

Longing for his warmth,
the smooth skin that once was one with mine,
those soft kisses that were filled with passion
prolonged by the slow delivery of the night ahead.

Yearning for the laughter
that resides only in my memory,
for distance has maimed the continuity of exchanges
and priority has taken the place of the urgency of want.

In the midst of the vacant space
occupied sporadically by the frustrations
brought on by the denial of his company
with little sight of relief near in time.

Tapping my fingers while staring at a still screen
hoping for its change awaiting for a message,
the allowance of pursuit, a sign of reciprocity
towards the pretentions of much needed space.

Holding on to the few recollections left
of a night of inebriety and a morning of exhaustion
knowing only of pleasures withheld
and satisfactions delivered.

Tied down by possibilities, maybes,
the few shared interests, the erotic dreams,
the extended conversations, the illusion
found in the engrandment granted by time and separation.

If I said no, would he then come to me?
His shortsightedness prolongs my pursuit
and feeds my hunger for mystery and space.
Possibilities and maybes, oh how I love them!