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It was the strangest thing today |
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I saw new footprints in abandoned pathways. |
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Beneath forgotten undergrowth something stirring again. |
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You were a single red blood cell but |
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I lost you in the knot of capillaries |
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But you were bringing me oxygen when |
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I needed it most in the smoke. |
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And you were always as far as |
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Mongolia, |
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As close as my clothes, |
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Your presence pervading, |
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But it still never shows. |
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As close as the answer |
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I never quite know, |
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Or can't quite remember. |
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Your distance insidious, |
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As soft as a blow. |
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Your shadow is with me wherever |
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I go. It's on the tip of my tongue but still |
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I never quite know, |
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Or can't quite remember. |
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I don't quite remember. |
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The forced proximity of a million different |
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Mike Leigh movies |
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Makes me long for the fresh air of a familiar face |
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And not the violence of loneliness |
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Nor the unease of surrounded seclusion. |
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I keep nearly missing you around corners and in passing trains. |
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And if I'd known that you weren't so far away, |
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That you were never that far away |
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I could've rode this train smiling. |
