and fitful resting.
Every reason I have to live,
lies at the end of this pavement.
These moments from you,
seem longer still,
then the months
we've spent apart.
That smile,
Your slight frame,
The endless distractions,
of half-written poems,
and shows from years past.
The rain on the windshield
is just like our conversation.
A thousand little pieces,
to make one endless piece.
Although I apologize a thousand times,
you still quietly admit,
"Parkings a bitch here"
and let our footfalls make the only noise.
The rain is the perfect reminder,
of why home is where the heart is.
And with tender steps,
we cross the threshold.
The eternity of moments,
that passed with us apart,
slows our loving hands,
as we wonder if the newly strange face,
hides a newly strange heart.
But as I take off your soaking shirt,
I whisper that age old promise,
and seal it upon your skin,
with my beloved kiss.
And in a instant,
those strange faces become once again,
the boy who gave a crooked smile,
the girl who blushed and giggled.
That night,
history was made,
more beautiful then any art,
and more pure then any prayer.
The blinds do just the opposite,
as they reveal the morning light,
our wish was obviously misplaced,
because the curtains glow so delicately.
The day is just as silent,
as the night that came before,
for maybe if we don't make a sound,
it will never have to end.
But the squeal of the train,
breaks even that hope.
Again on the terminal,
like so many moments before.
And as the pines blur,
I'll hold that night dear,
because it will be too many months,
before I drive this road again.
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