I can see beyond the limitations which I pose for myself
     the light, your shadow,
         and your delicacy interceding there between.

But this vision is soundless and shameful
    since I watch but cannot touch,
        I lurk but can't take heed.

You notice my desperation and hasten to barrage me
     with unrelenting mouthed insistencies,
          while motioning intrepidly
              salvationary glyphs of meaning.

And almost can I read your lips,
     as almost surely I would taste those lips,
         if I only I could loose my grip and slip
             into the light with your shadow.