Same topic, same line
rises slowly in cosine
curves.
I sit engrossed with you: beg
your pardon for
that one minute area of my brain
keeps ceceding, running
through fields, bright patches
of color--fire.
I run to the river.
[but wait i am still here with you]
The water separates, becomes
cold molecules of liquid
that widen as the cerebral space
between us takes vast breaths.
[wait are you coming?]
I look behind--vacant horizon
I anticipate it laden with
potential shadows
of your following.
I turn again and see the source of my--all
division; the frozen
fountainhead encrusted with burnt earth.
The dense frost is like that which
blocks all emotion; it is
that which keeps me from you.
Spread amongst ground I find
silver: from the earth
and tarnish:
of processes doing.
It is process which compels separation,
original states are always complete unity.
Tenacious pressure arouses itself:
earth flexing,
erupting fluids
from the the fountain
take me at will,
take me to
primordial beginnings
which are dark yet benevolent
pressure:
all places, one inhalation.
[i waited but you were always here]