Out Beyond

beyond all of this stuff:
the rough walls the
uncouth carpets, beyond
the metal cutlery cylinder
with the holes and the
slightly scraped stainless steel
sink - I sit in a place
that is dim and quiet and
I hear my own heart beat
my mind too full and
busy strung-out on energy nerves
the wires of life that
strangle and couple you
to a moving shadow

beyond the new buttery-cream space
he made
in our room
and the new rough cross-hatched
carpet with its neat
berber, beyond my
time manager and my
hopes for tomorrow, the plans of
the week our
holiday the
friendship I seek in vain -
I sit praying
my hands empty
and the light spilling
onto the floor to my
right and left

beyond the voices of the past, the
movement and the laugh,
the wind in branches the
wide sky and the fragrant
heather rough in my hand,
the childhood lanes
of summer and the
energetic breath - there is
a place, a space
I cannot fill, diminishment
comes with ill

the void is one I 
do not know I only feel it 
gnaw my insides with 
longing, and my heart beats 
broken slow - I see the lines

deepen in my wrists and, 
trapped in this place, I 
list to one side like a 
drunken ship, holed 
and sinking

I reach out and
throw my line, hoping
to reel something in, but
	so much has gone
	so much has been
I do not know what there is
	left to do
	left to begin

and so I sit and yearn 
waiting

for a good space a
satisfying place a
worthy task a
filling day an
end result that says all that
and that and this
headed this way

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