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You or Your Image?


Or your image?

Which is what I want?

To hold you in my arms and have you turn to clumsy flesh,

Or hold you out of reach,

Perfect in the distance,

Seen in myopic perfection

I must have you,

For I cannot have your image,

Because it is locked inside the camera box,

Locked inside my head

Do dreams dream of bring real?

Do our ideals meet on some sunlit plain,

The silence in our unbroken gazes,

Saying everything?

I cannot love you,

Because I have loved your image,

And turned love into a silly game,

Which yet is everything to me,

All my seriousness and all my joy and all my sorrow,

All for an image,

Projected out in front of me,

Like phantoms seen by torch light in the night

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