Can`t explain
the plait
that wove me into you.
Never together,
at least,
not in this world.
I obsess
over your subtle
imperfections,
like a sculptor
pining for his chisels.
Fate is a tempting dream,
one that does not seek
any of our permissions.
It’s funny,
the way the lines get drawn.
Connections made,
but never described
by more than just
a single line
of spider’s silk
between two points of light.
The eye
picking up a star,
long extinguished.
Even though
we do not understand
the efforts that draw
us all together,
we trust them,
most implicitly,
like the guidance
of a parent
to a child.
Could it be
that we are creatures
of connection?
Could we exist
purely off
each other?
No food,
or water,
only us,
and these connections
that complete us?
There is a matrix
that exists unseen
between us.
An unspoken bond
as real
as an embrace.
DJR – 2022
