How Like Me

What is real
And valid metal
In this
My world's hand
Is you looming
Large on the 18th
At the end of an
Airport lounge,
Jacket blackly
Slung over one
Casual shoulder,
Your blue-green eyes
And pert fingers,
Your indrawn
Breath, incongruous
Smile -
Can you fill
The dearth in me
Or am I being
Ill, insane, playing
Too dangerous a game?
God help my spirit
In this journey -
An airport lounge
With you in it
Is terrifying.
I know not
What I do as
I go 
Freely to be
Crucified.
How like me.

previous poem