Space

A glass wall separates us.
I can see you, I can see.
I watch your breath move in and out
of that body I seek to possess,
I watch you click your fingers
and sing a song that I can't hear.
I am watching you blink,
and with you I am blinking,
just like the hearts on either side
that are bursting open with each beat.

There is this space between us,
there is, too, a wall.
But I can't break down the barrier,
and I can't do anything at all.
Why? You may wonder why.
I can't see the wall to break it down.
I can't see the space.
Touch it, I can't. Knock on it, I can't.
I can breathe on it, and draw figures
on the moist clouds of my breath that form
funny pictures on the glass.
I wouldn't break that, now.
Would you?