Constants (poem)

I don’t know if you’re there,

or even if you’re real.

Not anymore.

Less than a blink,

less than a moment,

but my heart is on you longer than that.

Just a blip on the radar,

no more here than a passing thought,

and it’s all you’d be to some

except not here.

I want my concentration to waver.

I want to think about more than this,

and drift into tangents about cheese and deities,

just as it always does.

Nothing so constant as what you want to forget,

when it’s because one day it could be.

~N, 08/02/2013

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