Gets in whoever's face she can
Attract
To plead for freedom.
She turns her neck
Like a lasso.
Such authenticity
Does not come natural to us,
We hem and hew
At the border
Between ourselves
And the others,
Wondering what to disclose
And what to keep protected
Or at least undefended, undefined.
That's how much the Arabian
Waving her tail
Seems to whip
Against our hides
Like there's something
We must do
With someone else's discontent
Besides endure it
The ticking clock, the ultimatum
Of wanting
That makes us gnats in
Wind-blind circling
Attracted to scent and movement
And that ineffable instinct.
We just flow in whatever way
We can, spend our energy
In balancing what we think
We want
With what we think they want,
Trying to find that perfect point,
That destination temperature
And it always just
Eludes our grasp,
What we're reaching for
Is the other side of us.
The game is not to touch.
