Telempathy

Telempathy by Annie Miller

Sitting in my big arm chair and reading a new book 
feeling you there across from me 
as you pause and glance up to take a look
softly smile with the joy of me in your eyes
then a hesitation, and the smile shines a little less
the gravity of it all takes its toll
a sadness shadows over you
of regret and haunting heavy wishes

I wish I could rise to take you in my lap, 
rock your head against my breast and kiss your temple, 
kisses light as faith where your heart beats near my lips
kiss until the thoughts ease a bit
kiss until the guilt falls asleep

but I cannot rise to hold you
I cannot heal with touch
because you are not really here

And my empty arms ache like a mother's full breasts ache with need to feed her crying child
My empty arms ache with need to feed my soul 
and it's distant echo

you are two thousand miles away
a different place 
a different life
a different room
a different comforter who doesn't comfort

yet I know as sure as I am
that you feel me near 

and when you forget to forget,
look up and do see me then

smile deep inside your mind in that distant secret spot that is still our home
allow a moment of light and lightness 

before your self imposed sentry makes you pick up the sackcloth,
carry on the heavy weight of the ashes you eat daily
as if it were water you must drink to live

Annie Miller
3:00 am
7/9/02


Sent from my iPhone