Alone I speak with myself,
I use the words from my internal shelf,
I write them down onto paper,
Pixels of light with the power to stir.
The direction of my thinking is you,
The mirror that reflects my inner truth.
My confession to this mental image
Structures my feelings into a stage.
My lips on your lips, brushing,
My face in your eyes, smiling,
Your hand in mine, touching,
Linking us into an original being.
You copy all my gestures,
On your face I see the pleasure
I feel as I reach the border
Of our bodies, the sooner the better.
When I have spoken those words,
This dream of you and me, our world,
Grows faint into a streak of lightning
That lights up in your eyes as I stop thinking.