The pause the roar opens up Distance, the space between two souls and a word, two hands parted by air, or state lines, or class distinctions. Or the space between two synapses, made illusory by cerebellum. Distance is needle point and thread expanding in proximity, prying open the gap, linking one and two and filling them with decimals, it seems these days distance fills us not like dust in sinkhole and not unlike helium in a balloon stretched too far, a deluge of diffusion inundating space that was once ours. Distance, a tipping of equilibrium liberating we from the joint, me with each exploding second, time ticking collapsed hours into a million tiny bombs discharging the wrath of misrembering us.
Misrembering that an ocean is expansive, and each unit of water is onset to chilling body of heat. Maybe the key is in the open door, ocean floor swelling up to meet each bead on surface, eventually we learn that water ain't so separate and missing ain't so distant as two souls, too many words. That the gaps between gulfs can be bridged by a presence connecting us, as clouds are in union with the ocean.
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