I seem to want
what’s impossible
Not wishing to
go to the sand
but have the beach
come to me.
I don’t seem to
want what is possible.
That you’ll be
happy In the life
of another.
I seem to see what
is not visible.
Reading your lips
despite hearing
and being less
than for-ever-ness.
Time, the sense
most personal,
it started in
your arms
and ended with
leaving them.