realities


there is no you in
my day to day reality
no brown eyes or crooked smile
no warm scent or salt taste,

no touch
to my philosophy or creed.

the oak trees in my yard
have more substance
they move and rustle in the wind
they cast a shadow

and yet you are more constant
than the beat of my heart
the condition of my soul

there is no you in my reality, my days or nights
brown eyes and a crooked smile
comfort me yet neither cast shadows