Third World

my body could have been much bigger or much smaller,
but i am about the size of a string of a guitar,
plucked or caught by your finger, or the space between:
i try to settle in there.

i can remember sinking partially into a pillow
and catching glimpses of another world, other voices,
losing them on the sudden way up, and desiring.

unrelatedly, i dreamed that there was a third world,
neither the dream i was in, nor the reality i came from,
but a third one, i’m tempted to say between, but all i know
is that you had found a way there, and that from there
you had found me, i knew because i sensed you trying to reach
out to me despite your obvious absence.

and so i am getting less afraid of my death,
but perhaps no less of yours or anything else.