It’s never been about
touch.
especially now-
when it can not be.
It is not about
feeling
more than feeling,
simply because
we cannot.
It’s easier
to wish,
harder to commit-
we know this.
But we have
chosen
commitment.
Oh it’s not lost on me
your patience.
The time you spend
Stitching up the tear
In your pants
From the rusty metal nails
That you lean against
At night.
The feeling of despair and
Forgottenness is too much
To accept
So you go back,
and go back
again.
I like how you defend me
When I do not-
Not because I cannot,
but because I am not
I like how you keep
me entertained,
and wondering,
dreaming and uncertain.
I like how I laugh because
Of you
and at times,
with you.
I've felt a smile from ear to ear
that makes my face feel too small
to express the joy you offer,
Like reading a poem
With your name written all over it.
It is simply too
complicated
now-
Commitment.
Knowing that one day
shall be faced
with a question
we cannot answer
until then.
Still, I choose to continue,
and continue,
with the uncertainty
of tomorrow,
without destination
or remorse,
but with the satisfaction of today,
and life along the horizon.