I know all of you

I know all of you but still sometimes feel
part of you outside in the world somewhere.
Contained, archaeologists fossil chase,
returning indoors only for prayer.

It’s always been what I love about you:
coronal sweat with a separate heartbeat:
thumping, auteurishly self-sufficient,
it lives aside you even in traffic.

You know me all but sometimes I see
two perpendicular universes
trading glances before the Pujari
sanctions our travel with knowing smiles.

I miss the silver streak in your ringlets
wrangling its peers – and with all that too
much was said about your laugh,
the forlorn yawp of Timbuktu.

Published by

johnghyatt

Sentence maker, cheese chomper, large fruit inhabitant.

4 thoughts on “I know all of you”

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