We Build A Dreamhouse

i feel the raindrops
down the lines and pathways
along the flawless blush
of your cold face
perhaps i have imagined
this moment of the two
of us so close together
sketching photographs
in the night we can see
out the fogged chill of windows
of your lips through
darkness
the dim light of your smile
speaks a symphony
that in deep tones
i may move closer
than ive ever been
without the glass barriers
over your hands
in sterling silver dreams
if i could write music
like your voice within
this soon so distant memory
it would sing like a ghost
walking away from me
im no musician
and in transparent fingertips
i could see the poetry
in writing, flashing
it must be in your soul my boy
staring at the higlights
places without red glow lamp shades
and praying this shadow vision
will not run from my fingertips
knowing my grip 'round its wrist
will allow your eyes to dissapear from my arms
wrapped so weakly
and carving notes to remember
as they slide
down
and out
over
and inside
im not there at all