Feelings of separation and distance

I touch you; the belly of mother earth
But between us lays an ocean
Not to be transcended by time
Not time its creator

Seulement la langue
Poor, though lips still bear the same taste
Deserted, though words still carried with the wind
Seulement la langue
Powerful, though no actions reside
The only way, though not complete

Ah! But the woes of long brush strokes
Upon the pale carnal canvas
Painting with locks of gold
Oyster’s blue upon the white clouds
I see the skies and my hands caress the Milky Way
How soft of a touch does it take not to disturb a galaxy?

Standing on the shore of the ocean
I see my longing, I decide not
Say farewell to thee
Or part my heart.