oceanic distance

Photo Credit: Junior Libby via public domain pictures

Lying next to baby, I thought…

 

clouds do not have edges

no visible sharp lines, rigid

therefore unconfined.

 

You have no boundaries, no beginning

an end parallel to horizon.

Where do we start?

 

With the niceties, the quaint

the things that fill in,

us, entangle, weave and mesh, night after

Night.

 

And then I remembered.

 

Peanut-butter jelly sandwiches

I do not like jelly.

The combination of the two, repulsive

but I like you,

how can we mix?

 

Slice and commence– the soft tangible, often unneccessary

whispers on cold shoulders, middle

of the bed,

 

that oceanic distance

two shores that will never know the sands

of one another, friends enquire, I can’t remember.

How did we meet?

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