Intangible.

What a world it would be,

If only we could see -

All those things intangible,

Would it make it more manageable?

I'd see the stormy clouds of your mood,

The lightning of your thoughts as you brood

What you consider to be my indiscretions,

That come across to you as condescension

Of the time we spend together, across the paths
Laid out by wires and not really through art.

Or the bleeding red of my heart.

Or perhaps we should speak

Of the things that are indiscreet -
The empty plots of the lack of words -

The vacuous silence of moments awkward,

Following which you unleash
The moods that make me beseech,

All the forces that be -

That I could actually deal

With the distance that holds us apart -

Which only seems to make us spar

On matters which ought not to matter,

Like the idiotic words that patter

Out of mouths best left broken,
Given the hate they awaken.

Yet always there is hope -
That we'll find a way to cope.

And in that hope life remains -
As our constant efforts drain
From us our bits of joy -

As you, darling, remain coy.
Such if life, and so it'll be -
But one day I know we'll be free,

Of all that's wrong and breeds

Through our unhappiness.