feet per second

maybe von helmholtz got
it wrong when he measured

the speed of nerve conductivity
at eighty feet per second

forever reducing that flash
of intuition or sudden flush

of cheeks to little more
than data to be collected,

collated and eventually
reduced to math. surely

such was not the case
as dearest emily with golden

pen so secretly traced
the spaces deep within

a burning heart ever
yearning for a lover’s love

to come and lay claim
to all that could remain

between two once intimately
close yet pulled apart

by time and fate and faced
across the interminable

distance as mere footsteps
down the trodden path.