this room and all it has to offer,
shadow dancers and empty walls,
the epitome of need,
a long distance phone call from the heart.

all these voiceless hours
grow numb inside my head --
and it seems useless to pretend,
that there is some road destined to combine
the journey of two shooting stars,
as they pass in the sky like soul-mates do in life.

i am perched atop the eaves, listening to a prayer
from a dreamer on bended knee,
and i cannot make out the words,
but the music of his travail sews its way into my soul --
then finds an entry out into space from the slit in my lips,
whispers moist and ready to be kissed.

i loved this frail encounter a moment longer than any lover ever should,
for in the time it weaved its way through my veins i knew --
i could miss this serene silence that speaks louder than my heart --
and i would find only space between,
what my reality is
and what i can dream.

i often think
that the world is far too big,
far too wide to believe --
that absence makes the heart grow
more assured of its home,
when all the while two cities who love,
wake alone.