tangled wires
not even bridging the span
regardless of a thorough hurling
across the chasm
a spasm of lost faith —
yours for the moment,
mine for millennia.
what rending to mend?
how are we repeating ourselves?
have I fallen too hard again?
opened my chest’s
abyssal capacity
and urged on an
assailing tiger?
an impossibly caught comet?
have I thrown out plumage
of a capable cock,
a chesty bird, proud and fierce?
am I again pecking against
an immutable order?
aching continuum of snow, a
lattice between our bedrooms,
rivers away.
sleepless,
weeping,
and silent.
will the morning winds
carry the crystalline weather,
repair these paths
of receding footsteps?