The Art of Being Lost

Watching, wishing, waiting ever

Bearing with achy patience

Your very presence calms me

Sad and wistful, accepting and not

Feeling the space of your scent

A deep dark primeval thing

Relaxing at the sound of you

Basking in the warmth of your voice

Rolling in its waves, letting it flush over me

Sinking deeper into happy madness

Losing my thought, my mind, my heart

I'm sorry I cannot be worthy

I feel torn and helpless

Holding on for nothing, grasping at air

What do you want of me?

Be my pretty person please

I cannot make it across the wire

Catch me, I need your safety net

I need solid weight behind me

Won't you be my pretty person?

I have molded myself to your mirror

Wistfully noting where your tracks lay

Writing your name in my dust

Wondering if I can be so perfect as this