when I am without

a pattern of you
strewn                            
                                 carelessly 
I'll carefully take note
just as my fingers trace 
the peaks and troughs
of letters you half-wrote
and coffee stains creep sleepily
enlighten my desire
for afternoons of happenstance
of love 
and song
and ire

the rain falls without consequence
the floods are at their height
and navy blue
my thoughts of you
are washed in with the whites

I crave the chaos in which we waltz
and blissfully elope
cerulean haze
our souls emblaze
a love beyond reproach