to you, such talk makes (occasionally)

Sometimes I desperately need
to talk to you. But not enough
time is past, and anyway it's
not as if there are things to say
that need saying. I hardly can 
press the point of such need, 
when I know it's just real, deep
want. And there's nothing to say 
about that. 

But I thought it was something
to know, anyway. And I know it 
quite real, and deep, and stray. 

To you, such talk
makes (occasionally) sense
but by thoughts return rather more
than you do. To be fair to us, 
and somewhat dense, I bet 

you've exactly the sense 
I do. A time 

or two. Plus occasionally. 
Just not the same times we 
clasp to connect, or not 
always those same last 

times, which we get 
and forget, and recall 

like a long-lost bet.