light touch in my mind

hands in hair

companion lips

levity

the brush of you

and i find it fills me

more than this present and arid disposition

this rancorous memory of old

for there is nothing lovely in hatred

no smell of rose in the deep

but in everything there is you

pleasant sound

shape

your occupied space

finger touches

i turn and find in everything

you

rush of love

be near

in nearness there is only you