Mostly, I don’t find it
   Mostly, because it’s not there to be found
   But I yearn for just this kind of tale–
   ecstatic, mercurial, searing, profound
Like a heart still beating whose story–
   where is the pulse of this heart?–broken–
   what started it, stated it, sated it, breaks it?
Mostly, I kind of find it...
   Mostly, I don’t find it at all
   And when I find it I can’t hold it
   or I hold onto it too long
Oh no, it won’t last forever–
   what will become of me then?
It must last forever,
   like a bloody bumbling river–
I touch you my darling alive
Then I touch you in my dreams again and again
   because it must last forever
like a love that never ends

-January 17, 2006-