When… [sonnet]
When you said “I will not write long letters
for that is how I deal with missing you
(longing for your molten touch to melt us)”,
I felt my blood dissolve in cobalt blue.
When you said “I will never say goodbye
for that is how I cope with when we part
(as all I’d do is crumple down and cry)”,
a tremble quavered in my aching heart.
Although I know that distance cannot change
a single seething atom of our blaze
(no spark between us can be rearranged),
I in your absence will be disarrayed.
For if I am without your words and face
which part of you will I with fire embrace?
© 2011, Alan Morrison
The Naked Troubadour 