Figments

I would know my data,

know my limits,

know this moment

where a fragile detente holds;

holds me close,

holds me harmless,

holds all the little pieces in

together,

all for one,

all for you,

no heroic effort needed,

just a little discipline,

and patience.

The time is past for tears;

soul-stealing remnants

of a uselessly tender heart

that would fly away to safety

(safe from harm)

(safe from you)

at the sight of any signal

that the past is yet to come.

For though I cast

my yarrow sticks

upon this muddy ground,

I still can't parse the meaning

of what prophets won't foretell.

Gazing into crystal balls

yields no sublime new clues,

and so now comes the tricky bit:

trust in you

trust in me

trust in things I cannot see.

There is no ground

beneath our feet,

and maybe that's okay,

for what we thought was solid

was never there at all.

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