Always Near

Dear,

To the point, I have been absent—there is no denying.  Yet the more absent, the more nearing.  You say I have not been with you, but many mornings you brushed me aside like a breeze snuck in through the window over the headboard.  And you have not been with me: though I held you, you held onto only your own warmth—you odd particle, you strange matter.

But we are so close now, and everyday closer.  In the times when in the still water of night, you yourself ripple because of a breeze or some thought striking beyond the surface and sinking into your core, and you move in the bedside lamplight as if pulled by some taut invisible string—on nights like those I am so nearly pressed against you that my breath raises the hairs on the balls of your shoulder, raises your skin into tiny altars awaiting little breadth-less sacrifices.

Collide into me! And react as atoms do—release your heat!  Remember again the days we were close, when your innocence became mine! Unzip yourself from this world where we are separated! I am here next to you and always have been.  Let me truly touch you and you will fall asleep in my arms and we will dream as if forever.

Eternally,

Azrael

by: L. Raymond Andrews