i think i missed you

we wake

to create;


we carry some-

thing from the


night: thick

on us, in us—


a thousand stories deep

as the crow flies.


we were meant

to meet there,


you and i—



i think i

missed you.


i think we are

living the before.




this is my body,

broken for you,


like in the



we are here

to make some-


thing new:

but we know


it has all been done

under the heavy static


of sun. we traverse the

taverns, ear to the ground


for a philistine,

a dervish,


something royal

to stir us up.


we become the swine

digging in the pearls;


it is our



we sit on the dock

and wait; we believe


something is on its

way—a ship, a revolution,


a stay; a drunken glacier

swaying toward us with glee:


to allay our fears, our need,

our repeat existence.