I want to kiss your wrist
in the stormy rain
or hold your hair
on a ruined midnight street;
I desperately seek to walk behind you
to solemnly gaze at your feet;
I desire to become jealous of the moon
for caressing your bare shoulders in the summer night;
I will search for your perfume through a thousand cities
when your departure has lasted more than a day;
I will fall in love with you over and over again
if I simply hear someone mention your name
or if I merely see it written on a faded piece of paper.
Five Years Down The Road Of Your Acquaintance
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