Words play tricks,
we know what we read, what they mean, how they affect and delight.
How they flutter between ear and mind.
What do visual images add, beyond trivial contentment,
light shifting shamelessly, but the thoughts are always the same.
Wanting to hear, showing her that which she desires,
that which she never realised, yet brightens places where flat angles connect.
Beauty is subjective,
we know what we see, what is there, how they move and dance.
How they waft over thought and space.
What do cheers and charity elighten, beyond memories intense,
belief welling up, but the reality is never quite the same.
Wanting to know, showing here that which is there,
that which she never vocalised, yet compells directions where anything is possible.
Time is contentious,
we know where we are, what is real, how they come and go.
How they enter dream and subconcious.
What do moments and emotion create, beyond true love,
arousal of every sense, but the reality still awaits.
Wanting to hold, meaning now is all we have,
that which she never embraced, yet is there within reach when she wants him to be.
Steve B 09/09