Rushing sideways into my own puzzlement,
The recondite aftertaste of a déjà vu above my head,
I peer, snake-like, into the mathematical equivalent of
Boolean’s theorems, seeking an account to self-inflection.
Like a lost record I find the whim of neuron, cannot explain
This impulse view where mind’s a category-five misdemeanor,
The force of it catches fire just alongside my purview of Heaven –
Even as I write the logic and logos of it, never once does it unfold.
Familiar frequencies of a past known only to me recur and,
Again, there is my unforsaken love upon a fallow bed of loss
Compiling the desert in all its expanse to the oblivion of
Finding you, my love, the pieces of our love upon a lap of sorrow.
Straddled across the you and I of us, finding how incredibly
Lucky I’ve been, still – there is no replacement for that time –
It belongs to us, this immutable moment afforded to you and I:
This is all I ever wanted with you, for you – as I am found
Inside this universe of love unaccounted for – just you and I.
© K. James Ribble