cravings

Brussels is damp all over
And too cold for sundresses
The buildings look as though they have literally been blown to pieces
Across the street from our hotel there is half a building,
And on the top floor, the open-mouthed room shows me a dining table and chairs
Like a doll house, sad and crumbling.

The people are woven deep and intricate and are lovely
to converse with
Trade words.
I can feel myself growing inside, smiling wide.

Yet every other moment or so
My thoughts litter themselves across your profile
And I have to re-read your words
Or picture the way you smile; not your stock smile - but that smile you have when it fills your whole face, and that laugh that pours from your eyes like tears.

I feel as though
The two places I should be
Are so very far away from one another
So I will wait until they collide again,
And I crave the moment.