Time spent living in metaphor and time spent living in
time. Hearts spent living in head. Hearts spent on the floor. What hearts are for.
Here, I say: I will tell you my deepest secret and it will not ruin me.
Tell me yours and we will make us. There is the poet who longs
and there is the one who asks. The one who smiles.
The one whose hand is outstretched, waiting for it to be taken.
Say it. Say it always. Say it when you can. Practice saying it.
The endless field of possibility is liveable, yes,
as is the finite realm of the possible from where it springs
and where it can always return.
What is in your head
what is in your heart
what is on the table
between
what is in my heart
what is in my head
what is ours together now.
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