Something like soft light, something like shadows:
This silence, this
pause before the machines
earlier than dawn, almost
awake consciousness remembering
consciousness – itself a dream near the surface
of things – always invisible, the ghost
moving me around:
Hello, it seems to say,
be with me, but I’m
Alone and not alone, all day
I move around, my heart knocking
I think about the perfect agreement
between our bodies, the alliance of hips –
paradise. Our veins
mapped together for awhile:
We have traveled so much
for the territory between us
and still there is a long, long way.
Is this what love is?
On my own, I talk to people.
I turn the same corners with my blood
awake in its maze.
I keep trying to say,
but that’s not what I mean.
– Tim Seibles