Workshop 6/27

I craked the door open
And see you sitting outlined
in the dying flame.

Sparks fly to heaven as you poke at the remnants.

You are deep in your eyes.
Intent watching the flickers fall and crackle.

I pause.
Watching unobserved.

I would go
Not to speak
Or even kiss.
But to slide under your arm
Braid my slender fingers into your thick callused ones.
Rest my head on your shoulder,
A place I once called home.

Even from the distance I can feel your presence.

It is enough to share the unacknowledged moment.
Enough to allow the space to hold us. 

Note:d2, Something that happened some time ago. written at a writing retreat.