You cannot pursue
that which does not flee,
and so I give you over
to your other things.
Take courage, be brave as Mark
since choices are hard,
changes frightening. Lose yourself
along the curve and I will still
be tangent, can move sinuously,
have arms strong enough to embrace.
Understand him now that all
is allowed, now that the world
has opened itself before you
in its large, overwhelming way.
Do not go blind in the glare
of beauty, do not shy from who
is good to you. I will not run
like a deer before the hunter.
I will lay my head in your lap
like the unicorn before the virgin.
Horn of life, of love, unblemished,
you are the one who runs
on measured tracks, keeps score,
keeps time, sees things
as you are, creates your world
by what you think rather than
through what you know as god.
Listen, you are being told.
It does not take a voice.
You are not addicted to words
as I am. You must listen
with other ears. Add my letters,
subtract our tears, multiply
my heart and divide my body
by yours. What you are chasing
may already be inside you
and what chases you
may be one and the same.
This is the day before
the one that is the beginning
of the rest of your life.
I see you seeing me more clearly
because you see and like yourself.
I want you to sit down with me,
show me sets on paper,
try to explain the many levels
of infinity. Maybe all we really need
is to look into each others' faces,
group ourselves into sense.
I heard you wanting us again--
chalkboards, Marshall amplifiers,
firewood, wedding ring--but then say,
"maybe", always hesitation.
I never leave you and fear you
not returning, never make love
with you and worry it will be the last.
I still know what we knew when we met.
Everything before and everything since
cannot be denied. It is in motion,
all coming together. I believe, and cry
with the beauty of you inside me.
I believe, and laugh at those others
who want to press their lips
against mine and my body.
There is no way they can touch me
like the vision that came to you,
the voice that speaks to me.
This is the day before,
and another day in,
and the day beyond.
I behold you.
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Pursuing Other Things
Let Us Be Glad...
gina m. tabasso, a poet with her m.a. in english, has won numerous awards and has been published in Mangrove, The MacGuffin, Mid-American Review, Slant, Blue Mesa Review, Pavement Saw, and others. she is senior editor of a construction publication and associate editor of Grasslands Review.
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