I Don't Understand
You don’t understand. True or not, these are three useless words, a dead end. They go nowhere and therefore lead me nowhere but into that silo where the sky is a small blue disk and the sun only a proxy between day and night. Buried in these three words and in all words I spill effortlessly, is my own misunderstanding, and deeper still my own desire to see you better and to connect with the light beyond any known source. I tell you how I feel using the whispering notes of poetry because my loyal soldier is listening, warning me that life is tricky, like threading a needle or a series of narrow escapes through tiny windows. If it turns out I don’t understand. I’m okay with it.
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