The one who never listens when I talk,
The one who says I could look better,
The one who uses words
Not as truth
But as fillers of the time and space.
The one who thinks my caring is annoying
The one who wants to be left alone,
The gnarly bearded gnome who comes around at night;
Hungry for some midnight porridge:
My warm bowl of sweet sop
I love the one who thinks of him and he alone,
Who dreams of the silence of my absence,
While I yearn for the quietness of his presence
Because for him talking to me is a pained chore.
I miss the one who rejoices at my waning shadow and cringes at the approaching steps of my advent.
I miss the one whose mind can spare not moment nor second wasted on the worthless thought of me
My heart and soul, my head, my body desires and screams, craves and aches for a sign,
As minute as the flicker of tenderness in a strangers eyes- love
A twitch in the corner of a lip- smile
A flick of a finger in my direction- hug
A parting of the lips, if for a moment
So I can dream the thoughts and words to the action
"I love you"