It’s needing 8 fingers
interlocked
and 4 feet
stepping on dry leaves.
And after walking 2 miles,
we’d come upon 1 promise,
such the one the moon has with the tides.
But, an emptiness such the distance between them,
is what I feel now..

it’s wanting 4 eyes
closing
as 2 faces close in.
Only 1 wish would remain;
to never have this come to an end.
But the distance between our breaths
is my emptiness,
and I’m holding mine in..

it’s starving for 2 hearts
to feast on 1 love.
But there being
their beings
being antipodal,
it’s impossible.
It’s me,mpty..
it’s 1 kind of loneliness,
my
…emptiness…