Them

the one,
I want to touch him
As if he's made of Braille
Leaving messages of my own
Scattered across his skin
And reading the notes
He touches to me.
I want to flutter my fingertips
Over him until I've absorbed
What I can of his wisdom
And love unending.

the other,
I want to hold his attention,
Possess his time
And let minutes slip into hours
And days slide into years.
I want to know him,
Let him know me,
And find all the ways
To bring him joy.
I want the moments
To run away like clouds
With his attentions.

Funny.
When I think on them,
They seem so different,
Yet I do believe they are the same man...