the missing game

How could my heart not want you near,
always warm with passioned touch.
How sweet, from far, those words to hear
“I’ll be thinking of you” and such.

Time is a passage we all fit through
from rough beginnings to bitter ends.
Nonetheless this notch without you
trips my heart as it twists and bends.

This missing you, this time apart
plays a game that’s bittersweet:
sometimes distasteful, often tart
with a little worry about defeat.

Sleeping alone, my mind it wanders
from you to me and back.
Distantly my soul still ponders
those tougher elements I lack.

I hear clocks tick - we trudge along
duplicity rocks me slow, then fast;
yet cadence weaves and sings a song
leaving loneliness in the past.