We can do all the things other couples do while traveling,
If only you would just be here.
We can be naive and discuss occasions,
Prematurely plan the seasons,
Talk about what we miss from back home,
Then fall silent to contemplate the reasons.
I’ll build us a hut in the mountains
Where we can eat and sleep and stay,
And when fantasy fades and the dream is over,
It’ll be our time to go away.
If you came I’d be delighted,
You’d fill the void only you could fill.
When you’re sleeping I would sit awake,
Feeling grateful by the window-sill.
On a bus-ride you can sit curled on your side,
Throw your legs over mine.
When it’s over you’ll get up
While I nurse the blood flow back from steady decline.
We’ll laugh at the absurd,
And pore over the ridiculous.
We’ll stare wide-eyed at the unimaginable,
And proudly feel superior to the superfluous.
We’ll share earphones for music,
And watch movies squinting over a tiny screen.
We’ll run out of batteries just before climax,
Stifling in our bladders a primeval scream.
Sometimes the mist in our heads will cloud judgment,
We’ll hold each other tight and close on a cold night.
When the fog dissipates in the late alpine morning
We’ll breathe in a long freshness to know that we were right.
I’ll write to you like you’re still far away,
You’ll reply in a note on the table.
I’ll struggle with how to respond,
To communicate thoughts I’m not able.
We’ll walk in the dust of uncertainty,
Not ever knowing what tomorrow holds.
We’ll navigate our rivers of preconceptions,
With each stroke chip away at ancient molds.
If only you would just be here
I’d tell you so many things.
Every night spent under cover of many layers,
Everyday worn down shedding many skins.