And I whisper into the encircled totem that binds us
a tenuous thread of darkness and light unbalanced apart
“I miss you, I miss you,”but it seems superfluous.
And I seek to find faith in what I don’t understand
and ignore the selfish whispering flames of my heart
though it burns my chest like an iron brand.
And I pray to a god who does not love me
though I begged him while swollen with your child
to not steal you away as I cowered on my knees.
And I covet the touch, the graze of a hand on cheek
of people passing by me unknowingly
because I have known the thrill that is piqued.
And I cry at the space between our hands
because I can never reach far enough
to bridge the distance between lands.