Ours

3 different poems, all unfinished, all attempts at the same thing. i need some help figuring out which one i should continue.

My space...

It’s not just a place,

Or location,

It’s not just any face.

 

It’s not the space between us that keeps us apart,

It’s not the space between my fingers where yours are missing,

And it’s not the space in my head

Filled with words I should have said.

 

My space is the space between us,

So small I can feel you anyways.

It’s the gaps between my fingers,

Fingers spread to accompany yours.

It’s the words behind my lips

That every now and then I let slip.

 

Words I say between the lines,

Between the lines in my face

And the lines in this poem.

Words that only just now seem to have a home.

 

My space is a place above your collar bone

as smooth as the skin on your wrists

As soft as the pause between words

As sweet as the songs sung from birds.

*********

My space

Myspace doesn’t have limits

It doesn’t have edges

It’s not confinded to a room or a house

It’s not controlled at all.

 

In my space I have mountains and trees

I have rivers and fields,

And chities and seas.

There’s lakes there too,

And all the skies with them.

 

My space is huge,

It covers most everything.

I always feel so unimportant next to it.

 

My space is small,

It IS confined to a room,

Only one at a time.

My space has edges and limits,

And places where it’s not.

My space  is a bed that’s just too small,

It’s the distance from my lips to yours,

The world we creat in the dark,

It’s the air between our fingers.

 

My space is my world,

And I never thought my world would fit in my arms.

********

When I look up at clouds

At first I see smoke

Or maybe a giant

Just floating there.

But soon enough I see things change

And I find myself looking at your face

With rosey cheeks as the sun sets just for you.

 

When I look out my window

And watch people pass by

Before long not all of them are strangers

As I see you slip passed in the crowd.

Wheni  look agains you’re never there

Not until I look away.

 

Staring at the flames of a well built fire,

Listening to the wood burn and getting lost in thought

I’m thinking of what to say to you

As it feels so natural that you should be there

Sitting next to me in a smoky chair.

 

When it starts to rain I start to wish

I wish I could be wrapping you up in my coat

And we could keep each other warm,

I wish we could find someplace dry...

Author's Note

i can't decide which one to continue, it's in response to a poem called "mine and yours" by a fantastically fine female friend. two of them were written drunk, and one of them written when i was very tired. i can't remember which is which, and i can't decide which one i like best. at the moment i'm working one the first, but your input would be much appreciated.
*the last line of the last poem is not insinuating anything, the dot dot dot is there to remind me it's not done.