Away

I don't like being away from you

It's like the space between

Our fingers

Our bodies

Our eyes

Our souls

Create a chasim

In which I shatter and drown

I can only liken it to a dust mote

Lying in a corner

Content with the shade

Until something

A movement

A stirring

A breeze

Lifts it and carries it away

Into the light

Of sun scattered

Through a window pane

And suddenly for the briefest moment

In the heated blaze of fainting sun

It knows how a falling star feels as it streaks across the sky

A blazing emblem

For a moment every part of that dust mote

Is beautiful

Every part of it illuminated

And as it streaked across that sunbeam

It's own infinity of sky

It knew what it had missed

Until it settled in another corner

Where it dreamed of being stirred once more

Thus when I dream

I dream of being stirred

I dream of you.