(no subject)
In the end, I am resigned to intimacy. And the separation is part of the intimacy. The dull ache that is sometimes stagnant, sometimes raging, can transform into the piercing knife through fog. When I have not seen you, when I cannot, the understanding is wholly lost in the moment. I reach out like a blind man, then retreat the hands, as if remembering that I must remain where there is no way out, for now. That, also, is part of the dream.