the special relationship

somewhere between assassins, glaciers and airplanes there is a space. i can't call it love. and i won't call it lust. i won't even name it. but i will explain it. a situation so delicate. so tenuous. so filled with adoration and slight obsession. with questions and exclamation points and..................... lots of ...........'s. sometimes grief. she carries in a splash of apathy and rewards patience with understanding. sometimes no words can come. sometimes too many are uttered. sometimes all that is needed is a hug, a head on the shoulder or a look in a bar with a handful of strangers watching to acknowledge what is felt. to be reflected back again and again and again...all that cannot be spoken. all that is unknown. but felt. deeply. in the heart. on the skin. in fingers and in photographs. in words and through song. there are days one wants to walk away. there are days i want to run. catch the first plane out of new york city. and fly to you. but i would not know how to sit still for so long. or what of me you would take when i arrive. when the offering is everything. so i walk in circles. standing in dreams and changing my reality with long deep breaths and calm seeing. you are not me. there is no destiny. there is longing. and deep stirring. and lessons burrowing inside of me. transforming. rearranging. adjusting. still i cannot and do not and will not expect any little thing from this. from you. but i sit. and watch. in silence. offering up to you the simple space of my heart and the emotions therein that lay bare. for fear of the unknown is no longer an emotion i can live with. what words must speak have spoken. what wait has abated now brings fortune. and new songs bear singing.