What is it that lies before us
Just outside the finger’s contact
The reflection of light to an eye?
What is it in his face that I have to see again and again?
When you started liking photos
I liked yours back with equal intention
And urgency, until I saw the other
Tagged with you and yours.
Drawing back was all I could do.
What was beyond touch was left aside,
Afar, out of sight without attempting glance,
Beyond, without knowing where to look.
The kisses we had on the edge of the sea
Would be the Thirty-year anniversary that never came,
Your lips at the airport would be death’s separation,
An eternal departure where you never look back.