Our future
just beyond reach

of the candlelight
somewhere in the dark

of this night

waiting for us
to be

the us we are
going to be.

The Future hold us
lightly in the palm

of its hand

just beyond reach
of the candlelight

somewhere in the dark

of this night
beside the turned inside-out

sock...scrunched up knickers on the floor
two pairs of jeans...a tee shirt and a tank top.

The Future
(our future)
waits for us.

Dónall Dempsey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-beloved-is-mine-and-i-am-his-3/