enThralled

I can't look at you and figure out the path to certainty.
And I can't touch you to trace the creases of a path or plan.
This way of watching and
gasp
thinking
is along a cosine of intangible twists
And finding a rule that satisfies is a broken attempt
So I paw at the door, and make faces scrunched and sarcastic when you peak
and poke
leaving lines in a fading breath mark

And I wisely give up.
Rest on we the slips and gentle pushes of the way things are.
Lean on the quick flick of a look
That hints vaguely of giants in your bloodstream.

Is it maturity through age and pain, I ask, that keeps me grinning when our tongues miss
Or am I just that thrown by the rolling hills of some quiet sleeping god
Out of breath when I fall/scared of death while I climb
And if your tiny painted toes
perfect nodding smile
and bravery
keep me, seemingly infantile here in the summer of 2007...
Well, I will feel you, but feel for nothing.
Feel only to touch, and give, and stupidly try to keep up.
I'll clench my eyes and, grinning, step out.