You sit ten metres away from me as you play your piano. I daren't look at you for fear that I might be right. I've known you for so long that the expression on your face is imprinted in my mind where it will stay forever. I know exactly how you look: your lips clenched tightly together in utmost concentration; your bright blue eyes wide open, searching for something beyond the music, something you can connect to. I try not to think about the dreams I have of you.
You're so far away from me most of the time that when we get this close I let myself begin to believe that we might still have a chance. That my dreams weren't just dreams.
I talk to you for hours in your eden.
And as I reach out to touch you
My voice resounds, hollow; empty; talking only to itself.
I should have known.
I'm miles from where you are.