The Distance of a Worm Hole 6 2016

The distance between us is like a pencil line drawn on a page like steam in air like the drop of water that captures in its soul the light It is like water in the wash cloth but also like that one ice cream drip that gets away and falls Sometimes it is like the cool breeze that flutters the shears in the middle of the night elusive ...beloved...treasured like a kiss from the universe itself it is like the suspended moment...the feeling of our foreheads touching just before we give in ...to the kiss You held my hand...listened to my every word waited years to dance with me...to read to me...to tell me of your injuries in the rear view mirror we are always surrounded by tiny glittering lights fairy dust or is it mysticism twilight our voices are strung up like streamers across any room we have ever been in together our foot steps glow and pulse wherever we have passed the air respectfully swirls around our ghosts but the distance you ask? It is 70.1 miles from me to you...a graphite pencil line on a mapquest but if you reach out you can grasp my hair in your hand and hold my head to yours through the worm hole in the head of a pen