I suck at titles.
Me minus you is
A simple equation with no simple answer.
Us minus each other is
Nothing but silence across the covers.
Two asunder is no longer one and one
But one asunder
And one asunder.
I’m so tired of these mechanical anti semantic
Idiot numbers, one, two, thirteen.
Give me words over numbers, please
Oh won’t you say something
To divide this silence, to
Subtract the longing, to
Derive some sort of meaning from this negation of years?
Years minus us is time torn from memory.
Unanchored, we float in our memories of each other. Moorless,
Our numbers a poor substitute for the muscle memory of holding each other.
Time plus time will be multiplied into healing and motion but
Sorrow graphed in lines and waves upon our faces, our hearts is
A repeating decimal,
Forever reminding us of our idiot ones, our broken twos and how we
Add the idiot numbers up to make something
Not so idiot.
(C)Kate Capehart 2011