Intimacy is knowing 
and understanding that 
which is known 
intimacy is quiet 
it whispers softly 
between the two 
it’s the wind
which moves the 
summers willow branch 
it’s the shush
of the same 
and that sound 
right before sleep 
makes its claim

Laying here thinking 
looking at you 
there and wondering 
what if and
what now if
we have changed 
each of us 
but that change 
rather than impediment 
has become bridge 
love does that 
love does do 
precisely preciously that 
and if it 
doesn’t then that 
canyon was one 
that was never 
meant to cross 

If my soul 
had a window 
one would see
beyond a forest
filled with trees
of past loves
standing guard mightily 
around a dell
and as the 
snows of curiosity 
dance and fall 
some do gather 
into tall drifts 
of playful inspiration 
but most go
about their business 
of being folly
if my soul 
had a window 
upon you it
would silently gaze
for you love 
are my clearing

It’s not that 
you are gone 
but I am 
being back there 
where you left 
me still puzzled 
if you want 
me now you’ll
have to come 
back to there
for here doesn’t 
belong to you 

Or maybe 
I did
as things 
don’t do 
things that 
once had
I can’t 
really say
maybe you 
can tell 
me if
I did
have or 
maybe do