Conversation
The fear that never leaves-
That communication is impossible.
That we're reaching-never touching.
The gap is never bridged.
Confident voices soar
Answered by questioning eyes.
The poet is not only unheard,
But inaudible.
Touching my own skin,
Kissing my own lips,
Reading my own words alone-
Understanding them, never again.
The moment is broken by the next.
The realization that you are alone-
That you are one thing
With a beginning, a being,
A question-
Lifts you from the earth
And throws you back,
Still finite, still contingent,
Brutally zen and not the
Better enlightened.
You can explain it to no one.
Communication is impossible.
I can say you've felt this,
Because I have.
You can agree,
But we can never know-
Was it the same?
Are our souls of a size?
Do we have the same gods?
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