It’s safe to be away from you.
Our lives don’t fit into a possible frame,
they fit into a short burst of week-long light.
We collapse onto each other with relief –
if we have that one week, we’ll be okay.

Are we okay? If I never had that week,
would I have what I have now?
A constant yearning of a perfect week,
of fitting together in fantasy when, in reality,
everything is against us: age, location,
life stages.

Sometimes I’m the larvae, you’re the fully-formed;
sometimes I’m the owl and you’re my grasshopper.
We breeze past each other in the ethers,
say hello, be friendly, try not to clutch too much or
reach out too far, lest we actually,
one day, want
to hold on for good.

01/02/2006

Posted on 01/03/2006
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