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RC Kirk's avatar

Mik, this poem (and process) has been a gift to sit with for the week. Even the act of editing is illustrative of the change swaying in the poem's undercurrent (we really can't step in the same river twice, can we?)

'In a way, don't we always forget the time / betwen time--the time apart...' ugh, this might be one of the most honoring ways I've heard the love between friends phrased.

There's a gut-wrenching anxiety in the third stanza that lingers, carrying a tune I'm all too familiar with, but the surrounding stanzas are resilient. I'm eye-deep in Kierkegaard's existential philosophy right now, and I hear a fruitful conversation here. I'll spare the comments section--just know you've presented something true and beautiful.

I'm grateful.

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