Of Lovers, the Present-Past and the Now

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You will sleep again, as you do.
And I… search.

In you, what do I find?
A periphery of resemblance, a set of connectives,
asymptotic differences,
resemblance, and not equivalences.

Again I voice into space: In you, what do I seek?
Is it the (time, space), that makes a something?
Then each (time, space) must create all that is distinct.
Distinct, that is all.

By now, I know my voices, and that I voice: In you, what do I seek?
There is Nothing to be found, periphery and coordinates aside.
Then? Am I condemned?
To move towards, to be moved by _

As I looked at the new periphery, distinct coordinates, sleep–
I was left once again, perhaps as I always have been,
the only responses to voice.


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