February 28th, 2007

It's like I only have a moment
to understand you.

I am shown something beautiful
and intricate
And I am supposed to quickly grasp its entirety,
Like a Hemingway drenched in slippery oil.

Fourty-five minutes pass and I am haphazardly reaching
For a semblance of comprehension.
I want to know you.
The hour you.
The day, week, life you.

Can I ever have that?