Incidental*
*(ignored by God)
I am not stupid.
A fool, certainly, but not stupid. I know
(have always known)
that if the distance between us closed,
you would hurt me.
That the best I could hope
would be for you to
taste my heart like
raspberry-ripple ice cream
and drop it
unfinished,
in a litter basket.
(Keep America Beautiful)
More likely I would be
invisible as the
linoleum,
a weed
climbing
a fence
at the side of an alley--
one day to flower, worship the sun, fade
unseen.
Once I dreamed the chasm separating
us
was a minor inconvenience--
something as small
and incidental as death,
but of course that
was just a story
I told myself,
while waiting for sleep;
a moment's daydream.
Standing,
staring into your eyes,
I would still not make your line of sight.
I pour my love into an empty cup.
You will never see me.