Crying in to a pool of non-existent salty tears - 

Helplessly reaching towards each other,

Stretching pulling bending distance and

Time - an old film that is never ending, made up

Of desire, touch, scent, taste;

And of course your face.

My fears have been proved wrong so far, my hopes

Are as high as the stars, flickering - 

Floating, hoping tonight we are together in some 

Way or other, as the moon is

Shining brightly; we imagine our hands holding

Each other tight…

Continually trying my hardest to feel like this isn’t a fight.