Imagine if you will, a glass of water
as if you were very young
so that that glass and that water
were new, keen things to you
as only real things can be.
And now you are a little older
and you are told to imagine a glass of water
but it is empty - a glass with no water
never had it, has not seen it
Glass does not has not water's caress.
Now, older still and sophisticated enough
to know the shape of a glass without
knowing form and knowing function and
holding in your mind
a spot in space
where a glass could be and could feel
cool and full and still and clear.
And imagine as a grown man
how it would feel to reach out
to take that glass to hold, to quench
your thirst from it...
This is what it must feel like
for him to hold you
in his arms.
You are the dream of the idea
of grasping onto something that could be
filled with filled by flows and grace
that prolongs and grows and nurtures life,
But you are a void (less than emptiness)
And he is exhausted and dry
And I am angry and tired.