I look for you but you are never there,
never stay long enough for me to see you.
Like a ghost, you fade in and out; like
time, you pass by me so quickly, it makes
me want to cry, to rage at the memory.
And the ever-so-hesitant me keeps wondering
when the waiting will be over. I imagined
a shadow under the table but the lifting
of the table's skirt proved to be futile,
I saw nothing there... I see you everywhere.
I want more out of life than this mediocre
regularity that consistently urges me to
grapple on to the once-was while breathing
out meaningless conversations to others.
I fear my facetiousness is going to kill me.
I want my thoughts to synchronize with yours
at every turn. I love to watch my world
turn upside down behind your eyes as my bones
conform into the stage of liquescence. I am
the victim of your intrinsic plunder, always.
