the far longing

say to me, tell me, touch message me, kythe me:
"hey, you really don't suck. you really really really really
don't suck. I want to spend time with you. How can we juggle
our schedules to make this happen? I like you. I'm not artificial.
I'm not a figment of your imagination. I'm out there. I'm real.
I exist. I am in the flesh. I am substantial. I have mass and
inertia. I'm not a ghost or suffering from an existence failure
at the moment. I'm honest, but I don't like saying so: that kind
of self-description fills me with dread too: it's just another
abuse of language. It's just another attempt to be dishonest.
But this space is not for me to talk about what we agree about:
there'll be time enough for that later when we meet. I'm just temporarily
borrowing your fingers because in this rather... I hasten to say 'idiotic'
because it isn't, or to lay blame at the universe, because we are parts of it,
but from a hardened perspective, I think neither of us can but help doing
that. I am saying this as much to you as you are saying it to me? I don't
know. We are, have been, very distant from each other. What else do I think
you need to hear? I think you're.... I can't put it
into nonpoetical language. You are home, you are from the same semantic
clade as me. Home is where the heart is? The heart is not here. Here is
longing and a little mess. Flux tubes of coruscating desire furiously
gyrate like iridescent kelp fronds in the ether, like the plasma jets
from the accretion disk of a black hole at the center of a galaxy, like
an evolving civilization, a misplaced metaphor,
a wet shifting glowing geranium scented array of interconnecting
corridors and passageways, oscillating and changing, leading to
delight and disaster, depending on direction and intent. You need
to let go. To just let go. And it's so hard to do that because you're
currently (and sadly) surrounded by people who are somnabulists. You are
more awake than any, and that's a scent of fresh mellifluent lettuce to me.
I am nearby. Closer than you might think. I'll see you soon."