THOUGHTS OF YOU.

Another day without you
To hold onto;
Only the
Velvet steps
Of my memory,
And the desire to provide more.

Even the inkling of another
Encounter
Would
Caress the
Bare stairs of the
Corridor at the end of each day;

Carpeting one more footfall
Upwards;
Parting
The curtains
For me before I
Enter my central chamber.

But life has a habit of trashing
The rare bits
That matter
More than average,
And the steepness grabs
My balance and flatters it;

Calling me further from
The room I wish to take;
Making me
Stumble a step
To the next where I
Inevitably sleep without rest.