You (rough draft)

You are the place between the mind’s eye and the vision that blinks back from the outside.

You are the thin film of tears that smooth sight soft enough to see.

You are the feeling of anticipation that lurches the heart into a dozen directions when voice trebles bass in perfect balance.

You are the reminder that the heart still beats and that the wind breathes stories somewhere distant in the night…in dreams and stars and so close between the lines of two combined palms.

You are the coolest part of any sentence, the warmth of sweet tea, and the shadow of smoke against an evening wall.

You are the best part of life and yet by far the most puzzling, for you represent illusion and reality mixed together like paint in a bucket just before the colors attempt last minute to resist the swirl.

You are ever-present but half-way unattainable.

You are somewhere distant when pressed close to, yet ever the heart’s destination.

You are out there listening to others’ thoughts on the radio while your own play through the safety of insulated headphones that fit the shape of your head only.

You are in presence the sensation of completion and in absence a flicker of longing.

You are singing the sun to rise with your own beaming humor and lowering the moon into a well of despair when the inky black agony of too many memories has you tormented beyond compare.

You are lifting the spirits like nobody’s business whenever you say your name- and even if you didn’t have a name I know you would still call out to yourself, deep in the night.

You are undercover and over the rise of your self-made entity.

You are a shape-shifting wonder ahead of the clock and always on top of the latest news.

You are making things happen and pulling strings; ripping the curtains open to tear the light in, one shred at a time.

You are always knowing when to pull back just before the truth leaks out from your darting eyes; a safe glance in advance of intrusion.

You are always giving reason to love despite the moment.

You are sighing through the cracks of your life and tripping up the rhythm of time even as it ticks on, and on, and then some…

You and the moon in combination remain the prime ingredients of your inexplicable multi-faceted world.

You transform space and gravity one wispy sweet heart-wave at a time.

You soar flighty like a bird, but oh how you wish you could land.

Jennifer Burnside