your cloud

I feel as if I am disconnected.

Wandering, wondering… for as much as words seem to keep the heart warm, it never entirely stave's off the cold.

I want to believe, beyond what is considered devout. Beyond the faithful.

But I need a sign. Beyond what is said. Beyond words.

Not a conciliatory flag waving white in my direction.

You seem to assume that I am unaware or unknowing ..of what and who you are.

and yet I wonder, how much do you really know?

About you.
About me.
About us.

Just because my voice remains silent, does not mean that they are unseen or unheard, unless my feelings do not resonate upon your ears.

What streams I thought we're once connected, are now lakes becoming oceans that I am afraid to float across.

The words that jump off my lines into your pages were once fluid, poetic.. But now increasingly despondent and disjointed.

I do not like what this story has become… i do not like the perpetual, potential, proverbial ending that appears so evident in my heart.

Trying to find a way to combine, to coalesce, the things that divide 'you' into 'me' now that we've become 'us'…

I want to see what's real. Define and erase the lines again and again until it we make our own map, our own world.

But I feel as if we are drawing on two planes of a distant existence. Painting on polarized points of the same world.

And I don't want draw territories between countries, or oceans. I want to recapture the space between. Where we fit in all the right ways. I want to mend us into distinct forms made from the same mold.

And never again have to ask, but know, where you are, and where I am. Not where you end or I begin.