After the Platitudes

As I slowly approach I feel your eyes on me. I know things about you; who you have loved and what you have lost. I read the pain on your face; in your dark eyes and I want to reach out to you and heal your pain with my embrace. Does it matter that so much separates us? Does it matter that we live in different worlds with so little to connect us?

We steal glances at one another and though I belong to another I want you. Do you feel the same? As I write this I realize how futile and empty words can be to describe our feelings, to express lust or love. These are things the body does better than the mind.

I wonder if we will ever meet and what would I say to you beyond hello. For now I have to settle for words, only words.

From the journal of Josette Delacore - 1787