What for? For what am I waiting so long?
It makes absolutely no sense. Without you I felt
the walls built out of plaster and tasted
coffee from countries that I haven’t visited, with soft hands
I am planted in the earth on the edge of your river.
Yes, so even, yet outflown as I am, degraded and unnecessary.
A thousand thorn centered tributaries.
I would like to feel your thoughts on me and
mys-- “mys,” what does it mean to adhere?

Yes, I know you have them still, these whispered thoughts
they are the seams that hold my feathers beneath your head.
You can lie the same way as yesterday, but without follow up.
“I am not flying toward you!” I call. But it’s no use
You escape me. Shame, Sweet, that we
are together so short.