What's the immaterial substance

that envelopes two,

that one percieves as hunger

and the other as food.

I wake in tangeled covers,

to a sash of snow,

you dream in a cartoon garden,

I could never know.

Innocent imitation of how it would be

if one the music entered, you did not retreat

in my imagination, you are cast in gold

your image a compensation for me to hold.



Parallel lines, move so fast,

toward the same point,

infinity is as near as it is far