I wish for a field of shattered glass
rather than mid-summer’s still grass.
What kind of love makes me wish like this?

I can’t be content in a clouded thought,
deep down I’m confident
this was all right
and I’ll give you all I have
again and again.

But your face is so spiritless
and should you be holding back rage,
you’ll find a way to burn down my day.
You walk close by but never with me,
there’s a difference
and I wish you would see it.

Though we speak
like the depth of the universe
and dance between sheets
like it’s our ballroom.
I hate to feel you slip
like worn tires on black ice
but sometimes I feel you
become more of a distance.

I long to feel so close to you
on days I’m so far from you.
You are so gentle and so gracious,
I’ll never find another lover like you;
as profound and as passionate as you.

My intentions are not to search
but stay here; we can grow alongside
and build a temple of trust.
To keep an everlasting outlook
on what ought to be.

I wish for a field, empty of glass
but filled with mid-summers green grass
and our bodies together
gazing at the floating shapes.