Of May

You're slightly blurred

on my computer screen.

I look at you from a distance,

as always

because I'm afraid

if I get too close

I will only see a smile

or an eye

and not be able to put them together

like they should be,

like you look,

from a distance.

So I keep quiet

and sometimes my throat fills up

with an emotion

I seldom feel for anyone else -

a mix of longing, sadness and love.

but the love is uppermost,

so through the blurred lines

I make out the happiness

of our smiles, re-visit the corridors

of the past
removing the fog, the cobwebs,

dusting everything until our faces

come into focus.

Then I look upon my new, bare bedroom

devoid of any paintings, drapes or colours

and slowly write a poem for you to see

before the only thing I can do:

head for dinner.