poetry

Somet[im]es [a] [quest]ion [too far]

There are times that slice one into almost desperation:

try to sort a perfect phone contract is one case

in point-

ed reflection, for this morning at

least the man I should’ve been; confused and be-

mused by the people who lead me.

 

And sometimes a question too far

becomes a quest too far.

And I realise this morning spent chasing down data,

I must change what I some-

times do: yes, there are

moments for data, but there are also more

important moments when to go with a person in

the pleasure of the second, no second-guessing

the future, just living an unending present,

is far more significant than getting it right.

 

For getting it right is not optimisation;

for getting it right is love above all;

for getting it right is the kindness of attraction

when we lose ourselves in the tic-

tac-

tiled love and touch of

another, and care so very little that simplicity

rules.

 

And just because we are predictable in

everything we do and deny

does not mean that simplicity says we are simple.

We are not.

We are complex beings with extraordinary minds:

and I am happy to include myself and more,

and more

than prepared to include yous, my loves.

My extraordinary mind is easily distracted

from love: your extraordinary minds, meanwhile,

know exactly how to let love

bathe you in its

liquid

entirety.

And that is why I admire everyone who knows

how to let go.

And that is why I want to learn how to let go,

just as well.

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