I want to feel you -
heat like sun on glass
that otherwise might be skin,
your skin, pale like moonlight

I want to hear you -
songs of green Canopy
resonating as poetry, less prose
layered infinite in redwood summer

I want to see you -
adrift as stars, chasing the other
across a darkened sphere, waiting
patiently, until you breathe

Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Khepary, in the year 251 MA.