My daily Affair.

my daily affair. The morning no different
than other and pavement groans under my shoes
The sweet chill biting the end of my nose. Oh-
And you're there. As usual, you're never late
for our meet. Not by hands, or speech, or touch.

My silent lover, always on the other side
of this never before so wide concrete river,
with your lashes pinned to the ground.
You'd never look up, and i know if you did
I'd look away instantly.

The river shimmers with screetching and I'm lost.
In fantasy, fiction, in you. Funny that.
For that split second it's possible. Anything
but then I am woken up by the same melancholic
clicking of my heels, You're gone.

Maybe one day I will build a brige.
With a smile from these disjoined lips.
What have I got to lose?
False hopes and dreams of what will never happen.
Maybe one day. Or the day after. Or the day after.

My unexperienced addiction.