the prospects of actually finding you
had become so dauntingly monstrous
the multitude of possibilities tangented
by a thousand near-misses, that
it began to seem like caging water
learning to tame a power
so much more than you could ever understand,
an impossibility that, if you could wrap
your head around it, from mandible to
coronal suture would be the distance
a god particle need travel to unite with another.
I can chase specters, and even their shadows
but I cannot keep pursuit of all the heartstrings
the trajectories they must fulfill
micromiracles that shard upon reentry
and sear the futurememory
with dreams that may only be
flashes of an iteration.
Is that you around the corner? or is it
the heartwrenching void that smells familiar?
like the ferric sting to the air after a life
extinguishes from a dimension
and a love turns dark, a screen blank of credits
no names to the story creators
as the story was just unwritten.