I read part of your journal today.
Then I went back to work.
Then I read all of your journal.
Then work.
Then I went back and read it again.
I feel that my distance from you wears me thin.
Stretching me across a void of time and space not quite infinite.
The sinews of my mind and heart
ripple, buckle, strain, give way
to the pressure of my need to be with you.
Your thoughts enter my head through my eyes
yet I hear them said in mind's ear in your voice
I shift slightly towards a lamp
confusing its warmth for your own
unconsciously leaning to press my cheek to yours.
This is how far I got writing you
Realizing I had fallen into the private style
- not quite intended for external consumption -
of your work
of the secret journal.
So here I am adding this addendum
to a long abandoned outlet
to achieve some semblance of the closeness I crave with you.
Did I mention that I wanted it to be more about me?
That I jealously read over and over the allusions
The few thoughts thrown out after I re entered your life
or you re entered mine,
or
more accurately
since we finally failed to maintain the life long commitment to internal tension that was keeping the universe from throwing us together.
since we lightly touched minds and found ourselves irrevocably tangled in each others identities.
To you I imagine it seems that I am charging
full speed like a bull
blinded by the veil of blood over my eyes
irrational, impulsive, frightening.
From within myself I see the world turning painfully slowly.
My every action bound by an endless sea of commitments and the insurmountable constraints of physics.
My mind and heart race
my mind always coming out ahead.
Yet with self mocking sorrow.
For as I climb to the top of each philosophical mountain and reintegrate with the world of thermodynamics, flesh, and gravity
I must - yet again - face the sluggish pace of the earths rotation.
The glacial crawl of human vessels accomplishing earthly feats.
Each a maddeningly innocent obstacle
Between myself and my desire
To be overcome lest these trivialities consume me
drive me to madness
trick me into mistakes which destroy me like a million tiny pin pricks
before I can have my first life sustaining taste
of the simple perfect joy that is you.
