There Has Been a Ton


she has two lives split by the diagonal line
of a mirror, sectioned
into space and proximity: whether you walk one mile
or a thousand, it would be a wonder
of god and of time
if you ever peeled enough foliage from the wreckage to decide
which was the real facade. like
the spacial division of particles the light makes
when it reaches, in a remorseful repose,
from point a to point b, she
fractions into the blissful divide of an instantaneous
response, half-hearted. i
have never tried to make conversation anyway
there was always a gap in the return from the
bus. whether i loved or i wanted or waited
i never wanted to live with that much.