I know you are there lost in the thickness of brick
and glass. Bees pop out words I hear from your tongue,
then fly them away to the city you live.
Your footsteps walk my spine, arch me into old age.
I'll be dead before you’re old. I know your smile opens
up the sky for me to see the sun.
At night as I walk tree canopies, each branch
is your eyelash. I try to be as tall as the clouds, jump
on one and float to your door.
Sometimes when I slow a day on the rails, I watch
for you at each station. Lost to the smile frozen
on screen, my ears make up your accent, hear
you click on the light switches of my home.
We saw each other once, two butterflies flapping away,
short of air, short of love. But we never bumped
into one another to see who woke first.
I wait though, caught in your trap.
Gareth lives in Wales. He has two collections by FutureCycle called The Miner & A Bard's View. He is a current student at Manchester Met.