The tether of want

I walk faster than my solitude. But only as far as
the tether of want. Then I wait, in its overhang

for silence to catch up. Want like a bitter salt rubs
slowly over broken skin. Pain seduces with its

mouth, speaking, always speaking. You learn its
words by walking with the full moon. Who knows

what the moon does when your head is lowered.
What kind of love requires you to lift your face in the

darkness? Aloneness, however, is mute – a friend
that crawls under you so it can look you in the eye.