A look inward brings me back to you,to us on this bedthat tells our stories in colored sheetsyou never noticeexcept when I strip themeach Monday as you leave. And I see you now in my mindwhile I smile,not pretentious but reminiscing,some isolated nostalgiaof past escapades when we did not know of each other --even now throughout so many yearsthere are secrets that sleep here with me,without you, with us in dreams. The very thought of you chills me,heats me,redefines me,but I cannot let gobecause I will be fractured beyond repairif I stop thinking of the manyou ought to be,not the man you think you are. Here and there tells the storyand the very thought of mewith youerases it alldisregarding who I ought to be as welluntil you can find the wayto scoop me up and make us whole again.
