I come across you everywhere

I come across you everywhere,
resting your head on your hands,
an imaginary quill in a fantasy inkstand -
scratching our names
across yards of calfskin parchment.

Or, opening a book,
a children's encyclopedia, I find you
as a flat leaf, the colour of damson,
pressed between M and N.

You probably don't.

You probably don't recognise
that self in me which undiscovers you,
which turns the page and whistles,
hair skyward on the pale nape
of my neck.

Watch you come through a door,
as silent as pain,
thrashing the air with invisible thumbs:
I feel the dull thump
of your anger, frustration, whatever,

and convert it, like an instant alchemist,
into love.

Have been hiding here for hours,
awaiting your car, awaiting your voice,
hands, skin, eyes.

Look at me. I'm haunted.
I'm in the throe, the thrall of ghost,
of spirit, of soul.

I come across you everywhere:
cupboards, collections, containers,

From Love Poems

I come across you everywhere