the flow of people surges in and out of the subway
each day I watch with a mix of longing and despair
you entered my world, a really dull place, I would say
where all things are images of you, as I’m aware
the crowding streets are you, the summer days are you
the stores, the fruit, the printer, the screen, the typing
all things becomes you or a projection of you
of your beauty that holds all my thoughts and longing
of your soul-enlivening eyes that put me into trance
and of your words I could not decode or construe
when the passing days seem an hour in your presence
but the half-sleeping nights I must struggle through
I begin to wonder whether still I can hold my belief
whether being with you could enlarge or diminish my grief
