Distance

She enters the room, a refugee from the cold
Her coat battened to her breast, its mould
Seems to please itself about her body
The scarf moves from her throat expectantly
Then draws a swallow, shaping her, the tone
Of her angel skin trembling in wonder
How I stand it, sat in those evening eyes
Thinking of all my heart's replies
When you said you'd never trace the outline of my fingers
Never stain yourself with breath that lingers
I still love you and there's no distance
Except across the desk, the space between us
You smile, a little faintly now
Remembering the one time I had to let you know.