in the waning days of beginning
I came home in decision

your ‘ness was my itinerary
kind, thoughtless, blind, slow
and mine:
happi, restless, forgive, wit

breathe.
hope can draw blood.
I reached into your bag
then traveled to Kowloon
via air Ektachrome

we walked gardens,
gazed in Buddhist temples.
I half-heartedly asked if I could
buy you dinner at a floating restaurant
this epicure unrequited

you still don’t trust us
my version or yours
honestly, there’s comfort in no

it’s all too much

this prismatic trip,
squinting at my fingertips,
brought me closer to a clairvoyance
teaching me a history
in your present absence

a smile comes to my lips.
I thought about the sound,
the greasy smell of a projector

shining forth a picture of you
closer than before travel
in our junk’s full sails

© Tom Watters 8/23/08