Meet

 

Hey, I can’t feel ,

The torrent of words from your throat,

It's only pinching my chin,

But does not speak to my heart,

Maybe you could come closer,

And I could hear the heartbeats,

My head will spin,

And then I realise you are across the screen,

Of course , where in the morning it is midnight.

I miss you, with the brushstrokes of your fingers on my canvas,

The tingling sweetness of your peppermint breath,

I can only sit and wish the distance is soon nil,

And we can finally meet our lips.

But it will be more than just that,

We will hold hands,

Sneak into the attic and listen to the old gramophone

Hand in hand,

Cheek in cheek.