Have your eyes always had the scattered look

of a woman scanning the room for exits,

with
no time to consider the precious intimacies
of skin

or the softness of faces in repose,

the vulnerable sacraments of open hands...

And have you, too, misread the calming waters

perhaps misjudged their depths?

Have you ever, daydream laden or heavily burdened

startled at finding your self, now,

this moment

gaze cast intently

beyond the bounds

of too frail a body

perhaps through your car window

for the broad pause a stoplight can fill,

perhaps in the rain

contemplating bright reflections

aberrant red

and introspective green

through the timpani
of falling water,

feeling the unfortunate gravity

of some unquantified source

at an undisclosed distance,

reaching without knowing

to release
the restraining belt

while, beneath the various
and distracting chatter,

you strain to hear the systole
at the heart

of the music you know could be found

if only you were free to follow?