I don't like it when you're away.
And I don't just mean
when you're far from the reach
of my arms.
I don't like it when the look
in your eyes
is glazed over, blank
staring off into spaces I
can never penetrate.
I don't like it when I hold
your hand and feel
nothing but your pulse
alerting me to the fact that
yes, you're there. And alive.
But not really.
