I was drinking my morning cup of tea
fat clouds coming off of it
and I could taste your words on my tongue
I queue in the breakfast special
concealing my sentiments
all that surround me lively as larks
engaged in conversations with splendid volumes
they mean little compared to you
who's one
an intrepid mystery
I realize that distance and uncertainty
sever us widely
some days my hands are folded
some days I laugh that I find myself
back by the hearth
I chatter to myself like a wren
you should hear me
my feet well warmed
sitting up late at nights with
just the thought stuck in the air
you're like the summer moon, unclouded
entering at passage windows
leaving clues by forming forms
you never go unnoticed