a penny for your thoughts, my saint of words?

a love affair of so many years, you cheeky sort of darling, and we still stand strong, don't we?
the last time i saw you, it was forty seven seconds ago, and that was forty six seconds too long, sparing the count of first breath.
you beckoned me to that window, and i knew it was you all along, with surge and insistence. you who called from some crying wind? i opened the window, leaned out, and i knew it was you who called me here. one of the few that i still pray to for those sufficient, winding, graceful words.
you've met my friend lyle. he's got eight legs, and he's a bit gangly ... but we got a good chat, though a bit one sided, about how it wasn't supposed to be this way and how clever you were because not a soul could have guessed it. he's always there, good lyle, clinging to that web he wove under the pane with the brilliant view of the bicycles and rubbish bins.
i'm never on my knees with you, but my toes ache at the tips as my prayers come forward for plots and presence.
i know you brought me here to this time, this water, and these rocks. you lit the way with mourning dark birds and pale ocean glass.
you took me here because i hang on every word with some naive persistence. you slip away so easily with those tricks up your sleeve, birds and spaces. but you tie me with that guise of simple syntax, and i wake in the night and sob for a penitent word, any word at all.
i pray for those stories that cannot help but be told. i pray for those words that we have yet to pin to the string between hearts. i pray for line breaks and margins. i pray for a new way to tell cigarette smoke on your breath or whisky in the cracks of the tile. i pray to you, my saint, for words to tell all of this.
you slide just out of reach, so hard to get a hold on, as you've always been too bright, too clever, for the likes of me. but in this light and with these markings along my way, i can hold you close and spell out some sort of arc to your back.
you've been here all along, right under my skin.