There is a dash with a dark border
indicating that we didn't have time
for waiting, for being the way we
might have imagined; perhaps it's the
part of speech that collected I with you
and possibly others, first second third
persons who together, may not go the
desired speed of the individual, infinite
time and distance chip away at the edges of
the passively voiced design; accelerate
past the future and into the present,
as the meditative spiritual traditions
ritually require; and yet you are not of
that time, neither are we, so we read
philosophy and pretend to understand
the fact of unknowable facts, the truthless
truth that was lying over the horizon
while we searched for the sun by starlight
believing we made it rise at dawn
wishing we hadn't lost the constellations.
Roman Ryan 