Why I Can’t Visit Your. . .

I am

the only thing

keeping you in this world

–by degrees of separation–

alive

it seems important

I seem important

by virtue

of the mad Dash

shared

& gauntlet run

–ellipses now–

my stutter implies a more

that isn’t

still I

preserve your isness

in my own

–a fragile offering held close with both hands–

looking out through

eyes colored

you

taking in through

views shaded

you

listening with

your attention

–I hear a different song

a million piece mosaic

firing in my mind that’s

set to better background music. . .

a kaleidoscope

picture

as predictably

changing

as it is

ephemerally

formless

as it lends

precious

meaning

to all that’s

fleeting

–our spirit

careening

closer to the

Void