Evening's scribbles

Like every night,
I sit bathed
In pale computer light.

As I scratch another
Witless retort to
Whichever partner
I've found for the evening.

I don't yearn
For the sound of
some banal video.
Nor the ringing nag
of a conversation window.

Only for your merest greeting.

The effect is
more or less constant.

I need to be quiet, however
To notice the rattling
of that empty
Part of me
That you fill.

I know
You've never understood.
Doubtless,
You've disbelieved.
You never did get
Why I feel the way
I do.

There's something
In your eyes,
And the slowness
Of your smile.
It just brings

A fire out in me.

But every evening's
Dreaming is answered
By itself.
I know,
When I think of
Your eyes-
Those lips-
Some joke off your tongue.
Or your every
Wondered
Curve.
That they are
In the arms
Of another man.

My want for you
And your perfect,
Happy living
Emasculates me
With all of the
Kilometers
That we are apart.

But that slow smile
Still sticks with me
Every time.

Every time.