You left me this spidery substance,
A mind that flows everywhere, like a sea.
The exemplary notions have all decamped.
Time snags around the smallest things:
Rags and junk, bad memories. So what.
The baffled glance into your disappearing
Receives no known segments of light,
Rather bricks of tangible darkness. I know
Where you have been, but what relation exists
Between my wish for you and your return?
What would a true perception of you look like?
I’ve chosen “like” because, no doubt, a glimpse
Of you, with radiance unveiled, would thrill
As it destroyed. I’m left remembering
The ruins of the soul, where lizards breed,
Sloughed earlier existences, extinct,
That filter through to secret consciousness.
I note what I can consoled by the obscure,
As when a shoe descends to meet the ground
And the ground rises up to be embraced.
With the moon not yet a ghosted fingerprint
On the chrome-blue, November sky;
The scent of jasmine all but a memory,
And geese in exodus through colder days and nights:
When will you assume your necessary place
In this blind thread of laughter and of tears?