fifty-four

it's not that there was ever anything anyone could have said
but there is so much more than just pictures
and everything you feel the minute of waking
and all of the dreams you're leaving behind

i wish it was easier than this
perfect parcels i'd mail to you and all of me inside
and i'd never have to leave an address because
you wouldn't return to sender
it seems that it's a selfish wish of mine
but it's all i can give, and more than all

are you up for the taking?
all the parts of you i want to feel are mine
and everything stretching, crying, scurrying from light
i'll pull it out and examine
because i can't get enough, i can't ever have enough of you
and there's a fine line between the moment i think i'll hear your voice
and the moment your answering machine kicks in
but it's everything, right there

what's changed?
why does everything feel so important now?
you are the grecian god, complete in all your flaws
and still perfect
is this all because of absence?
or a step toward something more?

and sometimes i worry
that the more i like you,
the further abstracted from me you'll become
and all i want
is your closeness