when we are one,
will you love
my loves
and hate my hates?
you have been my mortar
and you have been
my pestle.
i am moving through the days like a child pushes back his curtains, draws them open in the morning.
i am moving from minute to minute like a dusty red elephant siphoning dark green water out of a river.
i'm slipping between seconds like a ferris wheel suspended in the sky, suspended, swaying, poised, ticking.
i am sliding from week to week like a man holding negatives high, peering through them to the sun's face.
mechanical and aquatic.
sliding along the curtain rod,
white linen and a faded circus tent.
i watch and wonder:
am i in love?
why am i not in love?
if only we could muster up some desire.
