floating this time (not flying)

the white light shining
on the wet
of eyes,
the clenched lips
and flown hands
of non-knowledge,
the open mouth smile
and emphatic nod
of connection,
the squinting corners
that look behind or beyond
of understanding.

i want to hold it,
all of it,
absorb it through my skin,
store it in my knuckles,
and crack its release
on a quiet
or sad
day.

i miss the whim
and commitment
to not committing.
i fantasize about
the passivity
of flowing down a saline
stream
and disappearing from your lists
and dissolving mine
into the salty water
where soggy
and illegible remnants
of a prior sense
of false necessity
rub softly against my bare skin,
lightly closed lids
and helplessly upturned lips.
just me, i
will be
floating
atop the water.

and that water will be saturated
with voices and laughs and thoughts,
bubbles of moments
(somewhere, sometime)
lulling me with underwater sounds
downstream,
leading me nowhere,
or at least nowhere i know

DLS