You asked if I could bring you something.
I looked around the room, I racked myself,
for something, to give, and meaningful –
I’m used to aiming high and thinking big.
You said, like yearning and possessing,
like thoughts and words, feeling and words, the moon,
compared to Jupiter, from here, up there,
antipodes aren’t always compatible.
I understood the things you said –
the way that symbols can outweigh the thing
that carries them, how symptoms can’t escape
their cause – but somewhere in between your
request and my response
I saw some things are incomparable,
the planets and the stars, nothing and everything,
a look deflected, one that penetrates,
feelings and words, what I would give, what you
would have, that some things stop at what they are.
heavenfaced 