There are times when you cannot
look to my words for assurance,
they tangle together after a while,
unfold as codes and numbers
when we've lost the ways
we use to communicate.

If it was as simple as inking letters,
I would have revived you countless times,
you would know that touching your face
is like filling my hands with stars,
with celestial warmth glittering
along my every uncharted space.

You would know that I see a shape
to every soul and recognize
each point of yours upon contact,
none of the curves and edges dull
but become faint wisps searching for me

First upon scattered earth and water
before making ghostly trails
across this season's warm sky.

You would move through all matter
and find wherever I reside,
as if your name shaped my heart
with a secret aria from the moment
we set off on this course.

The first touch would encompass
every dream I've known where
some phantom lover waited
to be revealed.

There are times when I cannot
rely on words or make you laugh,
because while my fingertips
are familiar with every key's shape
every symbol and assembly to convey,
who I really am gets lost
when I try so hard to tell you.

If it was as simple as premeditation,
I would have shown you by now
the innumerable arias hummed
in my sleep that mimic your voice,
you would know how you encircle me
like a world's unseen atmosphere.

You would know that I see
an infinite course inside you,
and such contact can still me,
silence what I want to give you,
that when this divide can grow
and be the shape of every
monster yet to come

Remember that my words
only encompass a fraction of us,
scatter upon places that recognize
things as codes and numbers
you know the shapes of
better than I ever could.