Like Reading a Passage in a Book


Like reading a passage in a book that becomes about you, and that is helplessly true and thus beautiful, but that is so deafeningly devastating

I come upon you, sitting in a field idling dust and fog, denying forward motion,

I break in but am broken, you break me, believing–at that moment, at least–

That eternity is better than us, that waiting is more so than love.

March 14, 2015