You and I

I go back
to the words,
rewrite, rehash,
and I don’t know
how many
or why the
compulsion.
The same way
I go back
to the completion
of a language,
and every word
I might find
in-between or
on the margins
of you and I.
Always searching,
for that place
where we are
wrapped together
between who knows
how many pages,
where yes,
all words
would fall
like rain
around us.
And so I ask myself,
and you,
the question;
why
this constant want
for the sound
of falling?

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