Quickly

A fleeting glance

and maybe you will tell me all

the world's secrets.

A delicate twirl

and maybe you could introduce me

to every star that beams

so surely within you-

so knowingly upon you.

They must look and see

all that I do.

If it was not for this encounter

this happenstance game we play

would these casual lolling tides we

reside in fall?

Would they rise?

It is not fair to be drawn

held, lead, along a wire

a simple string, a cord that is

so wound around these bones

of glass and paper. A crunch. A powder.

A tear in the sheet. That as all I am

If we decide to go our ways

if we choose to let fingertips slide through

and past and away.

We keep circling one another.

Each millennia it seems: an eclipse.

Each brush leaves shipwrecks of

all we thought we were.