A Finger Pointing Away Poem by Mark Heathcote

Each stone structure
Each emasculated brick tower
Is a finger pointing away from my lover?

Each monolithic pylon,
Each segregated dual-carriageway
Is there another barrier to reaching my lover?

Each river crossing
Each ocean-travel-warning,
It makes me more fearless for my lover.
 
Each air crash never boarded.
Each suicide narrowly avoided
is asking, calling, and praying for my lover?
 
Why do you not answer?
Why do you not hear?
Why do the waters not veer to bring you here?

You who made me of water
You'll make me dust.
Do you not feel my hunger?

Do you not desire to know?
Do you not yearn for your impenetrable fires?
The knowledge of lust put to death,
If nothing else transpires.