Love of the Impossible
by Joel Poudrier
I want to see you
In the way I see you
When I close my eyes.
I want you to be a painting
That hangs across the room,
That I can see from my bed,
That reaches out to me
And slips into bed beside me.
When I turn off the light
I want you to be the photograph
Of the girl I saw in the restaurant
On 33rd Street, the Saudek
I could not take my eyes off of,
Contemplating stealing it, which
Made me think of how painful
Beauty is when you cannot touch it;
When it is silent and still
And doesn’t know that you are there.
I want to touch you
In the ways that I have imagined touching you;
In the way painters hold their brushes
And photographers hold their cameras.
I want you to be with me
In a way that can never be.
I want you to love me
In a way that lives within
The impossible -
Listening to you whisper
I love you
Like a ghost.
This poem came to me as Amber Rothrock's Poem of the Week, from Illogical Muse.
by Joel Poudrier
I want to see you
In the way I see you
When I close my eyes.
I want you to be a painting
That hangs across the room,
That I can see from my bed,
That reaches out to me
And slips into bed beside me.
When I turn off the light
I want you to be the photograph
Of the girl I saw in the restaurant
On 33rd Street, the Saudek
I could not take my eyes off of,
Contemplating stealing it, which
Made me think of how painful
Beauty is when you cannot touch it;
When it is silent and still
And doesn’t know that you are there.
I want to touch you
In the ways that I have imagined touching you;
In the way painters hold their brushes
And photographers hold their cameras.
I want you to be with me
In a way that can never be.
I want you to love me
In a way that lives within
The impossible -
Listening to you whisper
I love you
Like a ghost.
This poem came to me as Amber Rothrock's Poem of the Week, from Illogical Muse.