I would most like to return
to a house of unsures
unknowns unexplored
unassumed space for love
all unfamiliar safe
untold as if anything
were possible nothing laden with loss
lost what once was

Winds only make waves
because you know what was
there once             no longer
things come and go
the going only beautiful
if you don’t know
this detached state of grace
the possible in place

so much is loss so much is
not now except our minds
which seem perpetually

unconnected by lacking touch
lacking taste of spit
would that fix it?
this itch wanting scratching
though it is no state of problem
just shocking
that it carries on

what wouldn’t I like
to feel in safety
everything and nothing at all