Gush

Here again.

Escapism precludes overwhelm.

Seeking stimulation, craving calm.

Missing you: desire and longing,

And a cameo in an old crossword clue.

Grasping at stories,

That start in the middle, but never end.

Hours pass, much to do,

But I want no part of it.

I could hop on the night train,

be with you in a day or two,

but another world beckons,

for better or for worse,

or something in between.

A broken clock is correct twice a day,

they say,

but a compass pointing in many directions

says

stay still?

Yet stasis is stagnation;

life going in for the kill.

This moment won’t resolve,

none of them ever will;

needs must; trust in

pockets of perfection

that punctuate the quiet chaos.

Trust in love,

that you’ll get [there],

some way, some how.