then and now

there are traces of you on my skin, especially my throat, the favorite playground of your lips and tongue and teeth.  how did these months pass without their touch against me?  i am suddenly filled with sadness at the innocence and anticipation which has been stolen from us in these last months.  i look at pictures of you that once drove me crazy with curiosity and intrigue.  i had to know everything about you, about what your chocolate eyes saw, what streets had your feet traversed?  and now i look at each picture of you with boredom and indifference.  where has my curiosity gone?  i miss wondering who you were and imagining you better than you could possibly be.  sensitive and open, communicative, liberal , practical, scorning your riches and wishing for revolution.  now i find you… less radical and passionate.  often scared to speak to me.  immature and sometimes meek.  you don’t communicate the way i hoped you would.  you don’t always look the way i hoped you would.  you’re not as calculating as i expected you to be.

i’m ready to be intrigued again.  only three weeks seperate us after this ocean of time.