i can lose myself in your eyes—
no, actually, that’s not true.
i have an excellent sense of direction
(up down around the contours of
your spine,
between the frantic pulls of
your breath,
across yet through the rise and fall of
your chest;
always with the certainty of
you)
though i do usually become waylaid by
crossways,
intersections,
and boulevards;
by unspoken daydreams,
unseen words,
and misplaced thoughts;
by the
fragile temerity
of an allusion at midnight,
and the
convenient paradoxes of
endless space
and finite time.
but you;
you, i can find.
because though i will never be quite able
to steer myself by
stars, portents, or street signs,
i can feel the way across your fingertips
as surely as any sailor
and where the
stars, portents, or street signs
direct, but do not guide
it is your warmth
that means that i will
never
get lost in your eyes.
because i’ll always be
found in your voice,
and the taste of
your touch.
and while i’ll always have to
carry a map
and still have to
stop three times to
reorient
redirect
and ask for directions,
i’m not too worried.
because lost
is a frame of mind,
and found
is a destination
that I am constantly
leaving and arriving;
an infinite loop
wrapped around
your little finger.