Stills

You can't be here,
but we're together still.

Can you not feel my breath
scraping in your ear?

I can't hear you,
yet your voice follows me.

Can you not hear my own
pounding in your head?

I can hear you, feel you, see you,
but you are not there.

I can taste you, smell you, sense you,
but I am still here.

It's like the old image of
the Sun and the Moon--
separated, never meeting.

But, I,

I can only sit and write and
wait for Armageddon to come.

[ SJM ]