Something about moderating one’s desires. Or questioning them.
Do I love you, for example, and are you your body?
You are in your body, and you are not in mine.

Aristophanes’ theory that every human is only half of what it once was.

There are many measures of eternity. In one, a bird flies
once every one thousand years to sharpen its beak on a cliff
halfway across the world. When the cliff is worn away,
that is the beginning of an eternity. The measures of eternity
are also measures of distance.

Tristan laying down beside the naked sword he laid down beside Iseult.

Sartre’s example of an infant plunging its hands
into a jar of honey, the crisis of contact,
the necessary dissolution of one’s self
upon touching the beloved world.

Alkibiades wrapped in Socrates’ cloak embracing Socrates’ wrapped in Alkibiades’ cloak.

The hotel room that exists for us both
but only in our minds, similar but not the same one,
differing only in the minute details: the fruit in the bowl,
the shape of the lamp shade, maybe the quality of the light.

Different ways to sleep beside but never with.

You once told me I had sticky hands. I can’t help
that what I want is to grasp.


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