Reading About it in a Newspaper, Thousands of Miles Away

So I brought you wet towels for your hands, and gave you a place to rest your head / And grew dim and empty while you scoured for that burning flame amid the rubble

                    my body aches
                                    with would-be growing pains
                                 as heart
                                        & body
                                            & mind struggle against gravity

                                                                                & time
                                                                           & space
                                                                                               to reach you

 

                                                        but I am scared of
                                                        that wreckage site

                                        because I don't know: are
                       you sifting through the shrapnel
                       trying to salvage
                and rebuild from the remains?

(and where
does that leave me?)

Author's Note

Line spacing should be a lot tighter on this for the intended visual impact, but I'm making do with what WC has to offer for text presentation here.