I’m lonely and infatuated.

I’m learning to fall in love with you.

Learning to live on the outskirts of your breath. 

The shallow rivers of recollections and dreams. 

Finding my way through the maze of your existence. 

 

I’m lonely and infatuated. With you.

Who are you?

You are all and nothing.

You are as real as a moment. 

But as far away as tomorrow.

 

Lonely and infatuated. 

You are mine and someone else’s.

You are happiness and angst. 

You are why I’m an atheist one day.

And religious another.

 

Lonely and infatuated.

We are each other. 

We drown in each other’s bodies.

Allowing the gilded sap of our branches to mold.

To rest inside the cocoon of our eternity. 

 

I’m lonely and infatuated.

With you, and only you. 

One might say you aren’t real.

You aren’t real, but you are.

Is now yesterday, today or tomorrow? 

If all, you are real now; what is now?