Why I Suck at Physics
Ruefully, I inhale lavender,
knowing it’s physically impossible
to inhabit her space simultaneously.
Still, I’d be most grateful
to rebreathe her air,
like the yin-yang symbols,
with a smearing of her bird-winged light
inhabiting my darkness,
and a drizzle of my unruly dusk
dwelling upon her rising mornings.
When I wanderlust,
it isn’t always about wandering,
not the journey nor the destination,
and that last part is a lavender-laced lie
as she is the journey’s end
I crave exploring most,
the waypoint where yearning removes its coat,
unpacks, and settles in as longing unfurls,
curling into her,
to rewrite our laws of physics.