Lament

Stay the heart that rages in its cage, furious in its muteness. Desire

is fluid, doing all that water does: simmer and rise to heights,  wash over, pull back, let go, drown. Along

the fringes of a dream, reality waits. I smooth back the blurred edges and stay, stay, stay in the center. Where you are. Somewhere, sometime, I will lose you. But

not yet, Love. Not yet. Understand

this: I did not ask, but was given, and what was given to me, I now hold close. My palm

clutches like it will never let go. As if water can be contained forever by human fingers, as if I could tempt fate into submission. I grasp

you, my cupped hands growing weak at the pull of a hundred tomorrows. Yesterday

I sat beside you and was swept in a tide of sadness. Wave after wave, they came, washing

upon my shores, taking, piece by piece, my resolve to be fixed, as a stone is, as this moment

is not. This moment is seeping through gaps where I thought I was gapless. On the crest of a wave, I break

into shrapnels of soul. I am washed

to your shore. Know this: wherever you are is where I am--impalpable because I will it; content because I have known

what loss is like. I pin loss and clarity together because I can. While

I still can. I teach myself

patience. It is what will stay the heart that rages

in its cage while you are where

you are.