“Am I in love? —Yes, since I am waiting. The Other never waits.”
–Roland Barthes
She moved. He stayed
Still, waiting for her
To return. As if he
Were the fixed point
And she the turning world
Which would revolve
Back to him again.
Yet too much noise
Slid between them.
His words, garbled
In half-heard metaphor,
Were lost; while the velocity
of her arc made him
tangential to her heart.
(June 5, 2017)
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