in the photo she is slightly
inclined towards me, while
i face the camera
with an indirect directness.
it’s tiresome, isn’t it?
the cutesy use of dichotomy?
to incline indirectly, to recline
without a loss
of traction. and if
she is to be slightly inclined
towards me, in that
quick stealing of soul,
than what might i extrapolate
from that?
with my slow
snap of synaptic
blackstrap, swelling and
wailing thought. it’s sweet
though, isn’t it?
this is a riddle
of trying, the subjectivity
of “best”. looking at this
photo, i cannot help
to wonder at what she
leans towards, and what
the slope of my pummeled shoulders
might indicate.
how can it be, body? how
can it contain, mind? if she slightly
inclines towards me, perhaps
this speaks to a sharing; that
we are these teardrop
individuals, and also leather
and wood, wool
and down; rainclouds
that do not contain rain,
rather, teardrop. you,
over there, with the muttering
mind! you and i are sharing
these thoughts! thank you
for inclining towards me, i am
sorry for my inability to share
in your tongue.
mine is twitching, a spigot
of foreign fish
wending upstream to a shared
bed. this planet houses
all of us, even those who
feel only vaguely a home.
zakschafer.com 