Glass Wall

i long to touch,
and initiate an intimacy,
with every soul
that i glimpse.
i stand on one side of a glass wall,
hands pressed
against the cold glaze,
seeing your skin,
pulsing,
warm,
with life.
someday we will melt the glass.
it will come swirling, crashing down like a waterfall:
tears, once crystalized,
flowing at once
in a release of warm
pulse;
human joy.