Twelve Inches Away.

I don’t know how to be with you
and I don’t know how to be without you.

You are so beautiful
across a table with sparkly things in your hair.

I want to be able not to want you so badly,
to just observe you, like standing in a museum staring for hours-

Longing to touch the texture of paint
or the coolness of a statue,

But knowing I cannot.
At night with the light of the street shining on your face.

You sleep, so I stay quiet and breathe gently.
Who are we when our lives interesext like this?

I think I know you thoughts because we feel so much the same.
I long for you to wake up and talk to me.
I muss you here, twelve inches away,

More than I could possibly miss you on the other side of the world.
So I travel with you in my dreams
to places we may never go in waking hours.

We can never own any of this.
I can’t demand your time or your dedication.

For sure I love you the most when I’m able to let it fly-
your soul, that is, which is where I love you the most.

André Schneider

Live Is A Sexually Transmitted Disease – ISBN 3-938262-17-6 – Amazon