Jonathan Berger's Poetry: Poem of the Day
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BLOOD AND URINE

From a distance
across a room
after all these days of  no sight
   no sound
   no evidence of your existence

Across this crowded space
before me a score of hostages
of our intellectual cold war
I spy, with my little eye
the skirt
the stocking
the leather jacket and
the laugh that is you
in these situations.

Between us, a gulf widens
with every instance we don't acknowledge
  our history
  and each other.

From a distance that grows as I step back
gaining perspective
I never had before
I realize  just how beautiful you are.