No sense of false euphoria

Passing the evening in a lonely bar, alone with you

Only a lost dream of distant stars burning the years like light,

Who were we then, found within each other's eyes

Even finding ourselves always wanting, never knowing what is true

Were I to reach for you again across this space so infinite, so intimate,

Would a simple touch of the hand, be enough to imply

A brush of skin upon a cheek, a fragrance recalled with a tear

Like the kiss of a ghost to a sorrowing passenger on a train on a rainy night,

 like our eyes fast asleep full of seas drowned in stars . . .