Across twelve parallel worlds they run
Twelve mirrored tracks beneath one sun
Twelve quiet versions spun in space
Twelve slight revisions of one face
In one we’re small and fur and bone
Soft-pawed beneath a moon of stone
Curled against a window’s seam
Breathing in the same small dream
In one we’re strands of ocean green
Twin filaments in briny sheen
Rooted deep where light grows thin
Swaying with the tide within
In others we ignite the sky
Two comets crossing fierce and high
Etching vows in streaks of fire
Unashamed of our desire
But in this parallel design
Your orbit never bends to mine
Hands draw close then hesitate
As if restrained by tempered fate
We meet in shallow measured ways
Exchange our calm our careful phrase
We speak of weather passing trains
Of distant wars and harmless pains
No undertow beneath the skin
No breach that lets the ocean in
We walk the edge of what could be
And leave untouched the deeper sea
My longing folds itself from sight
Pressed between the day and night
It never rises to be named
It stays composed almost contained
And you remain a closed domain
A quiet room without a stain
I never learn what thoughts you hide
What silent planets shift inside
Perhaps within this chosen strand
I am no force that moves your hand
Not gravity nor guiding star
No axis pulling where you are
Only a filament of green
Half-present half unseen
Drifting through your private sea
Alive but slight in memory
In other parallel timelines spun
We might have burned instead of run
Let language fall without disguise
Let truth stand naked in our eyes
But here we keep the volume low
Two linear paths that barely slow
We cross once in borrowed light
Then separate into the night
If twelve worlds turn beyond this frame
Let others dare to speak our name
In this restrained reality
You pass unchanged by trace of me
And I remain
Like seaweed in a tempered sea
Not anchor
Not necessity
