Pieces of a three-dimensional puzzle

we humans learn this indentation

fits that protrusion, curves and corners

moving into and against one another,

vulnerability meeting compassion

or fear’s sharp edge receiving

the tender touch intended

for those secrets burdened by our lies.


Years searching for the common edge,

contact dissolving along a line

where humanity may soothe

answers and also questions, a place

of our making, song to be sung

in a language we can never fully probe.

Its surprises link our hands

in commitment or beyond.


Conscious of how we move into

or away from each other,

conscious or not of what we bring

to that moving line, we etch

boundaries on a map that mirrors

such partial image of self.

Here today, gone tomorrow, we leave

to our children this faltering narrative of place.