"I think of you"

In the airport
waiting with lost beetles
eyes, suspicious, lash out;
our leggy model saunters by
which makes me laugh and turn to my side
to tell the closest; but there was no one,
and I think of you.

Fingers lash the strings
like crashing crests to the shore
and the bow whistling the burnished box
of wood and glue, sweating,
what might have been and what has been
are nothing; the beauty of music,
and I think of you.

I see you in the clarity of stars in the night black,
and they purr pure gold from afar.
I see you twice in the shimmering sparks of the ocean
deep from the hustle-bustle life brimming with nothing
worse than nothing, everything;
hiding in your castle town, your own kingdom
of hypnotized monkeys, and the gate stays shut;
below, the branches of the fig
and the quince intertwine, but the fruit do not touch;
I cling to these like ink to paper
and think of naught but you.