Song of Two Selves


   Do you write about what you miss


She asks as my

Eyes askance miss her attention 

Which flickers and finds itself recalled 

By the time I take the time to look and find 

My own attentions met only with hers in absence 

Which is all the inattention required to be

Responsible for self deception


   Do you write about what you miss

   What you want

   What you hope to

   Appear as to others

   Or simply whatever comes


   Does it become the motion which

   Carries you and describes those

   Destinations which are as apart from

   Your planning as can be


But it is in those unexpected notions which

Are as anchored to your sternum as anything

Denoted or implied or even

Demanded in fierce speech over

Water-opened spirits lit with a slow fire

Which is evidenced only in aroma

She is a prophet and a stranger

With a shortening cigarette marking her time here

It is a familiar fealty we both bear




You say and

So do I that it is in uncontrolled

Seconds before and between the named

Multitudes which though we encounter in experience

Are distinguished more so by these spaces we leave behind

Through which we travel but cannot call upon

Knowing the things

We wanted we find more so the

Suggestions which too deeply

For confidence compel us into

The razor’s edge that can only be

Our making in undoing.