There is a nothing intertwined with these somethings
there is an everything that cannot be grasped in a sign
reveals itself in realities below the surface,
more real than the fragments of reality,
but somehow, some way         both in all things and in nothing
a star explodes in a display that has the motion of love
looks like it                  in a unique way, speaks to inner rhythms
in its motion, moving from inside towards the other,
yet it cannot say anything worthy of inspiration,
a star, I witness
a star, I confess
a star, I walk from day unto day thinking of stars
            but they say nothing
reality is a burden,       not because of the demands
of toil, not because of the exchanges in which the blood boils
not because of the experiences which surface like a layer of oil
that refuses to mix with the desires of leisure,
no, reality is a burden for it cannot be grasped
the moment is always just beyond the reach of reason
moves a step beyond the measuring line
so we walk these avenues,       searching
I know you, but yet there is always more
you,     a mystery I explore in the exchanges
over a cup of coffee                moments as profound
as a gaze that penetrates the heart
there is the relationships between parts and the whole
the thread that connects the two
as thin as the meaning of conjunctions,
a kind of wedding bed that generates meaning
by joining these fragments.