In Waves

In futures I feel, but can hardly imagine

I recognise the pillowy grip, wrapped in strips around my finger

Through which I exchange, in countercurrent flows

Murmurs of warmth that sink away

Into cinnamon cheeks,

Marshmallow summits,

Soft felt as plump as a Moomin, heft and all

With the incipient glow of a nascent, smouldering campfire.

I huddle around its purity, and weep.

Joy, fear, hope,

These tears have no answer.

They roil and roll into a decaying, lost whimper.

Division by division, atoms and strings.

There, every boy, every girl,

All together, or never at all.

Dancing around in wavelength that refuse to sit still,

Like father, like child.

They fizz and they blur in interpolation;

With one mistake, another collapses,

Another turn, they branch and they split,

In and out in nauseating spins, kaleidoscopic and endless.

I call out in greeting;

Hapless echoes chart a latent space--

Unknowable, unthinkable, oceanic.

What must I do to finally see you?

What kind of self-cruelty must it take?

How must I prospect the veins of my sin?

…How can I find my Moomin kin?

To the futures I feel, but can hardly imagine,

Such beauty and canvas, pale as the heart I foster within.

I will learn my lesson,

I will set sail in pursuit.

One way or another, I will find who you are;

Wherever you are, whenever you come,

I will love you more than I thought possible.

Just wait for me on the waveform river;

One day it will collapse, and make you real.