Distances apart

On a late evening flight bound eastward
My body goes to meet you.
In silent, grey November London
We will meet,
And if I tell you I have waited all my life for this day
I lie.
I know, and you know
That time in all her deceiving glory,
Like the 10-dollar women you spent your nights with
Will leave me no better or worse
The empty space on the ragged edge of the universe
That I have been flailing in only reminds me
That seeing you, hearing you, and watching you
Will not be my epiphany, or cathartic, or anything.
We are but a mere lifetime apart, and my mind wanders
Where you don’t follow, and this physical meeting
Is redolent with old mysteries
And yet, I seek to see you, if not for anything
To tell you that this life, this magical splendid place
This secret sanctuary, this solitude that I inhabit
Is mine and mine alone.