subtext

to begin is often too difficult

my love’s true origin spits and sputters

as a fire fails to devour wet wood

teeth gnaw and gnash upon all of the words

I cannot say when I am around you

I am a shadow a ghost a vacuum

the moment a bubble stretches then pops

splattering into the wet winter grass

I desire so much more than what I am

without any knowledge of where to start

so we part as if ever together

into divergent exchanges of time

I am where I am despite my desire

like damp kindling scattered across the ground