i.
the opening line
never appears to land
precisely,
despite rehearsals
prior to the main event.
and though they feel
plucked from thinnest air
before my vain
attempts to breathe new life
into cold grammar
and wooden diction, mock
all efforts to articulate
anything capable
of shattering apathy’s
cumbersome spell.
ii.
should i have found myself
safely ensconced
within her bedchamber
all those years ago,
what words
might have come to mind
that, when whispered
into logical space
between the all-too-familiar
and unknown,
would have unlocked
a kaleidoscope
of fervor and action
sufficient to silence
this separation?
