How is it that we are
at parallels
I am building something here
you are writing something there
sometimes
we are both frying an egg
Only you are with your own pan represented by some electrons
a mimicry of what the nearness of you is like
Because when you are here
oh when you are here
I could be standing at the hot stove
You would stand behind me
perfuming everything
While the eggs make flowers on the grease
My back is suddenly made of a super sense
It knows and records every touch you have made
It knows that these times are precious
these touches can not simply be wished on and received
Makes me think
It also makes me think how temporary the present is
always