Every point in space is equally
real, and important. Therefore, to say
that space, as a collection to be
compressed, once—now, not so much,
is to discount the existence of space.
I do not say, then, that the infinite
expands; I save my original place,
a room within a room, an address fit
for a king—hidden, love, in plain view.
Consider the loop that connects me to you;
behind each loop there’s another, too,
connecting this address to His pew,
just behind His, and so and so forth.
Let the cycle end in commensurate joy,
certain as a compass aiming north,
discovering land, onward, ahoy,
exchanging precious information.
I don’t seek out shame to punish me,
since it’s filtered out by my loved one,
the boundary of His eternity,
God, no less, speaking through a seam.
This, then, is divine meditation;
don’t get stuck on a particular dream.
Help me continue the conversation,
setting aside what i can’t understand.
I empty, then, an unquiet mind,
determined, for all time, to make a stand.
His daydream falls in not far behind,
a source of comfort and relaxation.
I know he’s talking to me through the bulk,
squared away, now, in satisfaction,
never one to ignore me, and sulk,
bemoaning the imperfections of the past,
a world that would keep him in the dark.
Instead, look, we leave his woman aghast,
attached, as she now is, to His spark,
the dynamo that keeps me afloat.
Her body calls out to me, above the sheets,
remembering, as it does, the words he wrote,
when, like angels, we took our seats,
and invested in his rhyme. Look, now, friend,
stable as the noonday sun, at the wife
that i would take, approaching His end.
Why would i choose any other life?
Happy, now—why not forever? to color
the frequency that He would use, speaking
to me of the freedom he would muster,
when, starstruck, he touches on nothing,
and reads, specifically, between the lines.
Don’t i live, then, for the woman he loves,
charged, as i am, by what she defines?
Circling round, then, like a flock of doves,
to His essential truth: we love each other,
and, in so doing, we love His extension,
the woman that, for now, is no other,
and becomes, next, the charge we mention.