Suppose it were as you suppose.
You, a wind passing freely through my life.
Some imperceptible force impossible to possess.
And if not the wind, then a gentle pour of rain puddling up at my door in search of hidden cracks.
Surely a spell fell over me.
Somewhere between the bench and the beach.
I saw you hide yourself in plain sight.
Underneath black clothes, between shadows of street lights.
I watched you ache to find an outline that could match only your shape.
You, who asked nothing of me.
Molding yourself to fill false lines.
Alone with you I confronted a line in myself.
There was noise in the silence.
I submitted to it.
You were my friend before I knew the meaning of the word.
Sleepless against the daylight.
I do not regret.
You, a burning puffer of dreams.
Your heart spelled out in a language I could not read.
By the moon your hunger pleading.
Creeping down the dark corridors in your head.
Mostly when you revealed yourself, I withdrew and looked away.
Now as I look back I see it plainly as it was.
You, a whisper laid down in my ear.
And my ear, offered so naturally to you.
Absorbing the space between your lines.