Connections

 

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

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