Heart thumping in my fumbling body young
To make good sense of things to come
May be one hardship unanswerable by tongue.
The search has stopped that once yearned for remedies
For the distance between his eyes and mine.
That great expanse, draped with strings of memories,
That with love and longing do intertwine.
Clocks will tick.
The dust will settle around us
The air will thicken with the stuff
Until I am a smudge in his line of sight
And that will be enough.