these days
one often speaks
of resilience
but all this weeping
has dried me out,
made me brittle
i no longer have the energy
required for all this—
elasticity is a finite thing
we are not without measure
our hands cannot always be
extended
across all this distance
we move against each other
in so many different ways;
like a river redounding
we keep looking for space
some center of stillness—
the borders keep shifting
we grow tired of the same
arguments;
look for ways to withdraw
from the world,
this wild whirling gasp
find someone whose hand fits
in yours,
or yours in theirs—
dare to speak the words
