blissful youth
ignorant truth
my words
a thousand miles from home
how I yearn
for a moment's touch
alas
for now we touch
through words and gestures and long-distance electronic flowers
blissful youth
we have come to know
what pain can be
a distance that feels
like a thousand knives
ripping open tender skin
reaping sorrow
as if the harvest could not be better
oh my darling
distance is a cold hard stone
that waits to be polished
that waits to be turned into a diamond
blissful youth
paint my skin
with the words
that we have whispered
so many times
to and fro
whilst you place the flowers
on your head
a crown of wildlings
surrounding your eyes
oh my darling
can we take back time
and see where we can
meet halfway
between sanity and art
between poetry and love
Postscriptum, or A Poem Emerges from the Wounds Left by Distance
I have left my other half on the other side of the country. Distance separates us. Tonight, after a glass of wine, I felt inspired to write a poem. The words emerged from the wounds that distance left on us. I find myself constantly wondering if my choices were the right ones; or if I choose wrongly. But in this moment of unclearness, in this moment of random thoughts permeating and penetrating my mind, I wrote a poem to 
In any case, I hope you enjoy the poem. I am obviously not a poet but a philosopher. Hopefully, it makes sense and inspires you to also write to your partner!
Happy writing, and stay well.
All of the photographs are my own, taken with my Nikon D300 camera that still survives to this very day. The poetry/words are my own creation, even though the wine helped me with it.