Tuesday, November 14, 2017

UNTAPPED

Sometimes, when I am alone,
when I'm cold and at my most quiet,

I feel the faintest undulating—

an inscrutable deep sea pressure
shivering through my chest cavity

and I realize—
there are these frequencies in me

so deep
they barely move—

but whose
momentum can never be stopped. They go

so slowly
and carry

such protracted
bits of information,

such distant
and enduring longing

that I just know—
you'd have to be

standing pretty far away from me

on a perfect clear day
very far away from today

to receive even
one single second of it.

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