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.
