This Fascination

Condemns me to a period of longing
during which rest is impossible
until a certain satisfaction is gained
like touching your face for instance
or lingeringly holding your hand
or maybe laying a fingertip on your lips
even a quick kiss would probably suffice
until a new day brings on a new hunger
like wanting to see you smile
or hearing you say my name

Most of the time i get by with none
of these things i have learned to scavenge for scraps
like thoughts of you walking on paths i have traveled
or perhaps visiting a place i have been
and i wish enough traces of me would have lingered
to settle upon you, tiny motes of dust
each holding a seed of my affection
maybe a stray thought could insinuate itself
and make you look up and around

At times i smile at these images
and then scold myself for not being there.
no matter, we are fated to meet again
the gods will not have contrived to show you to me
if they could not afterwards taunt me with brief,
barely-there encounters that hint at
almost anything and also nothing
perhaps we will even be friends
and then this fascination will be cursed to scratch
against newfound constraints.

~~ I miss you so much! (sigh) ~~