you

You
---

When you smile
to passers-by
it is like an open rainbow-ray of space.
Your sunfast face radiates a pastel mystique
Your eyes are a deluge of doubt
When you speak
it is like my best poem ever
ripped inside out.

You have only ever
(as time idled over)
thrown me a few hundred words, pure phonetic gifts
-or perhaps just a cold poem I made.
I pan for traces of meaning like a fine green sand.
Yet the touch of your hand,
strangely, scarcely hints significance
on the dedicated esplanade

A flourish of mad zeros blinks into my definition
yielding surprising intimate equations between us.

You strike me
as so like a slim, hot candle
that I dare not touch you.
Even if your looks are only mirrors
even if you exist only in a different song
I will stare at the sky until I've got you fixed
in my crumbling grand design

Until you kick your heels and go
scorning my elite falcon-height
Or until I hardly know
whether between yesterday and today there happened a night...