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Love with a shot of distance
hoping spiked with daring
yearnings so impossible
they are practically immoral
walking around with blinders on
plagued
by the faceless adversary of
innocent miles
whose only fault is
being where they are
how does one slay
or make peace with
an entity that stretches itself
between your heart and mine
when it is not a rival?
love is supposed to conquer all,
but the latitude of my desires
and the longitude of your passions
are constantly berated by
our physical coordinates
so cold and cruel
they turn my prayers into stone

I sometimes do
such insipid things as
going to Dallas on Google Earth
just to know what the weather is like
where you are
whiling away the hours
I should otherwise be spending
holding you

because I can’t
flood your senses
with my typhoons of caresses
or envelope you in my
handpicked miasma called Be Delicious
by Donna Karan New York
or let you feel the cool fire
between my thighs
or induce you to
“accidentally” discover
the sensitive spot between my
ear and the back of my neck
and when I wake up
in the middle of the night
reaching for you
I can’t say your name out loud
and have you hear me

but I can close my eyes
and retrieve your smiles from memory
and let it burn like incense
in the satin-lined vault of my
most jealously guarded fantasies
and I can route my kisses
and make them fly like homing pigeons
across continents
and I can listen to the sound clips
of your sexy baritone laughter
whose shortcut I’ve saved
on the desktop of my brain
and let it tickle me
and stroke me in private places
and I can play reruns
of our conversations
when you had told me
I was the ideal girl
if I weren’t so far away
.

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