hope

cool-headed we approach each other over states and flatlands flooded with uncertainties and uncomfortable prodding from stale air and persistent lonliness capitalizing every letter we ought to questioning the judgement of a far-off face and the histories of a parallel life one fiber in a thick rope winding alongside every story we've ever heard or ever told yet we all want so badly to be woven into another life to be integral in someone else's story crucial to someone else's inhale exhale so we all extend our fingertips into the dark into the cool earth tentatively hoping full of doubt but resolutely optimistic that we wil eventually palpate just the vibrations of someone else's fingertips the whisper of someone else's optimism the unwavering tangible fleshiness of hope.