S P A C E S

S P A C E S

All I need's a good delusion
She loves me
Across sweet distances
An uproar of activity
synchronized as a simple, all-knowing caress.
Telephone lines cannot contain us
cannot explain away
the substances that make us
who we are
when we loved no one
the very one
whom we signified
by the cold and empty side
of a moment we designed.