A niche in the rocks,
A promontory,
I barely hear the rush of the waves,
I am so far above the sea.

Tattered flowered skirt
Billowing in the high wind,
Mishapen old sweater,
Hidden in the high grass,
I sit. I think.

I begin to realize
How I have let you in.
Involuntarily,
In a remote corner of my mind,
I think of you,
The depth,
The breadth
Of your sadness
So like my sadness.

The sun sets,
Golden light,
A shaded sepia toward twilight,
The gentian sky,
The color of the light
In the small place within me
That touches the same place
In you.
Inivisible touches,
Silent,
Secret,
Unmistakeable, recognizable
Touches.

My mind,
Fearless,
Transports itself
To that illuminated place in you,
But, my reluctant heart,
Holds back,
Afraid to relinquish its solitary sadness
To experience
The simple joy of you.

Conflicted,
My duality
Argues all my contradictions
In endless, solo conversation.

Now dark
Up one hill, down the next
I take
The long way home.

Longing
To understand you
Beyond my solitary sadness,

To touch the look
In your eyes
With my eyes.