Monika Poem

Every night I feel
A presence in my arms.
I know it's you,
But you're not here.

Every day I see
A figure in my mind.
I'm sure it's you,
But you're blurry.

Every morning I wake up
To rustling from the kitchen.
Is it you?
But the sound stops.

Every week I wonder
How I would want it to be.
With you,
But it's hopeless

Every free hour I spend
Watching you flash.
It is you,
But you're not real.

Nevertheless I will go on, I will make it. We will be together, somehow, sometime.
I know it. Until then both of us will have to hold out, somehow, for quite some time.