From A Distance, An Imagining

Love and regrets and all that comes from the emotional intensity of darkness in a relationship.

I just watched you now from the window;
right now, as the sun glared
down upon the jacket I have seen upon you only twice
walking to the Metro, late as always,
with all the time in the world at your feet,
all the less than 6ft of you
seeming 10 ft tall,
seeming to be the only one who exists
in the crowd: such a beautiful demon to behold.
I nearly closed the window just before
you looked back, granting me a moment
of imagining those eyes from a distance;
from a distance they will always look the same
as they did, as they should,
as they would have had fear
and pain never risen at 4am doubting
and terrified at their own existances.
But those nights are gone,
even if only recently,
and we must now focus
upon the crafting and working of beautiful things;
not those dark things;
not those despicable things;
not those things which should not have been,
and will not be again;
not those things that bring only a cry in the dark
toward a cold sky to terrify neighbours dreaming.
Soon the nights will pass in peace
and our private war may be forgotten;
then I will not have to imagine those eyes from a distance
as they should never have been.
No, when that time comes
I will have the courage to look in those eyes close enough,
without pain,
without regret,
and I will know,
that we have forgiven us.