Somehow you always manifest when the right light comes along. Somehow you always draw me down, sparse rainfall or laden dusk. Your eyes are another world, your gaze its klaxon call. You sidle through the hush and sway, the rhythm of your walk the heart of hypnotize. I wake to that crush of losing you, the air where your touch once weighed. The silver of those slipped kisses, the blessed breath you left. The night is always so long, and forever without you.
There is always some darkened hallway, always the sudden suspense of breath. You are always close, whatever might be missing. You are always there, nearing the tip of my tongue. Hold my own in some one way conversation, the plots of my dreams crossed with the clotted voices in my head. Somehow together in the depths and narrows. These endless streets and dim lit windows. Somehow always almost home.
The crow comes down with the sky not caring. The wings expand to grasp the air. Some soft passage, some worn down horizon. Stars and fireworks, and always some moment more. Sleep and the condensations of culture all call you out. My heart falls out and skitters along the dismal floor. Somehow you always magnetize, despite distance and indifference. Somehow you always are drawn down, lightening always needing something to strike.