It is only my longing for you which has remained pure
all other emotion no more than a stained bed sheet
(the only witness to my final virgin shudder)
It is only the door for you which has forever remained closed
that piece of untouched flesh I kept for you
hidden behind the mirrors I held for the rest
It was only your fear which plunged deep within me
and planted between us a chasm
like an unwanted child in my womb
It is only the most intangible thoughts which span that abyss
now less than a whisper
no more than the flicker of my most insignificant glance:
swept across the worlds between us, unwanted, unintended,
by merely the dream of a time with a memory of a hope
that once held a love so transforming:
the greatest distances of time and fear become nothing.