If you were here

If you were here, in this room, right in front of me, 
I would say,
stand close,
so I can lay my hands on your head,
feel the softness of your hair,
trace from your ears to your jaw, your chin,
smooth under your eyes with my thumb,
run my finger down your nose, from the bridge to the soft tip,
mapping what I can, and touch you on the lips,
my hands on your shoulders,
gauging height and span,
smell the dry sun in your hair,
rub smooth perfect thumbnails,
hold your hand and take the angled weight of your arm ,
hold me close to know the depth of you, 
your contours, scale, and ratios,
speak to me, whisper,
tell me what you see,
because I have yet to see you,
and maybe never will,
and maybe you not me.