intentional.
i am a compass needle pointing true north.
i am not alone,
but i do not fall into you before me,—
though our knees knit together
like zippers’ teeth—
preferring
delicious unknowing, ecstatic unbeing
preferring to forever
teeter
on the brink.
i am a compass needle pointing north.
trustier and truer than any star.
guide yourself by me, but know
i will not follow.
i have journeyed far and i have learned little
but that things are all lovelier
in the distance.
you may be north, but you are not
my destination.
