another one i can't quite wish to lose.. not mine.
Crossed and Dotted
If I could write you a letter, I would
and I would write it with wire and string
so that when I sent it,
it would slowly unravel
and kink
and bend itself into knots around careless fingers
and memories turned jailbirds
flying to Cozumel but lost in highway-side diners
and the gabled lofts of old barns.
And when it finally reached you,
a whole day would be spent
untangling the intertwining jots and jabs
and picking through the bent mesh grill for scraps of tickets
to rusted-out Ferris wheels and merry-go-rounds.
Two children rapt with attention
and miles of tin-can telephone line,
we would start, one of us at either end -
you steadily leveling-out and me all coils and curls -
tripping and twisting, slowly in concert.
Then, and only then,
could we truly set this mess straight
and start to build
that fragile, immeasurable bridge between us;
the one that expands and contracts as we breathe
and trembles in our laughter,
but mostly sways as we walk together miles and miles apart.
