This is the dimension where emotion lives,
a universe alone, wrapped in strands
of vibrating strings, singing to me.
And though you might be four thousand light years away,
on a green planet, watching wave upon wave
of gray ocean groping an empty beach,
I’d still feel you pulling at me,
knots of fingers under my skin,
because distance is an idea coiled within me,
a result of how I scarred you
and you scarred me:
I can think of it, and I can forgive it.
I sit in my autumn-cold room and hear the humming
of our ghosts, pastel voices and images
passing through this blue present.
My stillness is a breath I take in between sighs
of resignation, it is how I find
a rhythm to move me where yours once did,
and when I am fifty-three, when you are fifty-three,
I’ll still feel you pulling at me,
because time is a simple idea coiled within me,
and you are vibrating strings, singing to me.
/Tidal Heart