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You are helium to my soul, and I ascend, yet
Your scent to my senses remains odorless.
Tasteless are your lips, to mine; just as
My own reflection appears not in your eyes.
I see no color of your aura, radiating
From the electronic images of you that
I gaze upon longingly, and with increasing
Frequency.

Mine is an inert disguise; it hangs useless
In the closet, where colorless dreams sleep
Alongside nightmares like Big Bangs which
Empty my soul and torment me; is everything
Not real? I reach out and touch nothingness -
Infinite gas and vapor, cold blackness and dust...

Sunlight seeps in along the edges of a roller
Blind to give me sight as morning breaks and
Buoys me to rise again, spirited by Helios to
Cool my overheated fears and misunderstandings.
Crystal clear become the signals which pass
Through silicon chips in transit between us, though
The timbre of our voices will be different when
We first hear one another speak aloud,
Squeaking occasionally and accusing the relays.

The elements of love, though they surround us,
Are in fact very rare; love, like helium, is a
Finite resource - release it into the atmosphere and
It will escape into the vastness of outer space; yet
If love is held within we ascend, rising up and out of
One atmosphere and into another, where we might
Breathe again.

An at-a-distance love for you, I do breathlessly confess.