Afterglow

You are amazing, and I mean
not simply very good
but that you are
a very startling thing,
always searching for what
you cannot expect.

Your hand on my chest,
largely obscuring.

And though
I cannot give it to you,
I do not have it to give you,
I will give it to you--
the sudden start of insight.

Trust me, you say,
and I would say the same--
but my fingertips are mute.

So read them. When you weep,
your tears are like cats eyes,
reflecting even in darkness
the awful glare of the sodium lamps
outside.