Where do I lie on the spectrum?

Where do I lie on the spectrum?

A fine slither of light,

a slice of space in time.

.

My beams reach far

but support no structure.

I see a dead star, a million years passed,

yet I’m blind to your glow within me.

.

I squint a little in the softness,

enjoying the noise

humming in the shadows,

catch a glimpse of your aura:

bold and bright, a tangible shimmer.

.

Something with a wavelength,

something I can measure,

something to be felt through darkness.

.

Feelings are readings

from a thermometer of the soul,

an old woman once told me.

.

She’s right in a way,

though it’s not mercury

flowing through my veins.

.

Heat has just one axis,

and my feelings at least three:

.

1. Luminosity

the difference

between fear and terror,

a matter of degree

in the same nature.

.

2. Saturation

the difference

between anger and frustration,

a matter of intensity,

indulged or controlled.

.

3. Hue

the wheel on which they lie,

spinning with no reference point,

meaning gained only in relation.

.

My pleasure only draws me

in its distinction from pain.

.

My trust only keeps me rooted

when I’ve seen the trees

ripped up by your breath.

.

My love is only vital

when I’ve felt a vital wound;

when I know your heart

can crumble in a moment.

.

Realising I’m lost in thought,

I recalibrate, let my eyes focus

and rest on your cheek.

.

There’s some pink in there,

cast by the clouds where the sun

trickles away its dying cry.

.

A smile hidden by vulnerability

where my eyes meet yours

and I see her.

.

I lean forward,

purse my lips

and you’re there,

caught between me

and the polished surface.

.

My lipstick is smudged,

my eyes are blurred

by sloppy lines.

.

Her form, you see

is only as distinct

as I let it be.

.

She only escapes my room

as pixels, floating and free.

.

A secret shared with few

who dare her to

let down her hair

and feel the space

where her body might be.