and I chase
and I grab
what cannot be held
in the narrow folds
of my palms,
but which slips
through the crevices
between
my restless fingers,
making space
for a largeness
and depth
that I can only
hope to feel
with my
beggarly fingertips.
and I grab
what cannot be held
in the narrow folds
of my palms,
but which slips
through the crevices
between
my restless fingers,
making space
for a largeness
and depth
that I can only
hope to feel
with my
beggarly fingertips.
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