Lessons learned through tea leaves
and chances never taken, I am
in love with a specter who cannot
look me in the eye least it give
him blood and bone–he is here
and he is not, and it is easy to
divine passion from spirits peddling
half truths and “somedays”
Yet what is it really
that they would have me sow?
What could be which takes root beneath
a spinning pendulum, hovering
over every which-way possibility?
Stars and spirits, it is all quantum.
Every “yes” and “now”
caught in the oscillation of a crystal point
every “when” and “still to come”
written in shadow over the page
The point must never touch, you see,
while orbiting so many Infinities
and a lover I could never fathom
cannot exist in this lonely plain.