Timeline

In the evening

I mistake your face

for an entire days worth

of river stones,

like the ones in my hand

I launch into splashes.

It comes to me then

that I can look for you

in a line

Among its infinite points

you are somewhere

between two ends

Sometimes it seems

I can never find you. 

I have made the mistake

of being at both 

start and finish

having come to regret

my fullness,

having less parts per whole.

Its the same reason

you keep running downhill,

hoping that by the bottom

you'll have something

to crash into

From where I see you again

for the first time

and I remember

You've been gone

for more than a year

And I can't remember

How long I've looked this way.