beyond cause-worth

do I always need memory, 

to meet up with this moment?

is sight of a blue sky,

a form of emotional commentary?

is 'why' the introduction

of expectation as true cause?

is the last time I saw you,

ever truly relevant, 

to how I view you now?

I feel so taken up with summary.

I don't really know how

to free-ride into this moment,

how to share, 

from where inception occurs.

a running account is still a standby status.

I want us to jump into this point in time,

fresh from an original presence to share,

where my splash is on you

as yours is on me,

and we are weathering the responses.

what I can't get enough of,

goes by faster than any summary can account.

I have no words for it.

there is a zeal,

but it doesn't cater to the lather of experience.

it's the cutting edge,

but mostly as the sharpness ignites

and not so much as

what we now have 

as cut-ups to further discuss.

it's where searing has surface tension in passing,

where the microscope sees, 

before I see through and do,

way before language could take up the cause.

oh if breath had answers, we could understand.

all I seem to be doing

is riding herd on being

and living it out as the results.

I want what salmon have, 

as the desire to spawn. 

I want what expresses them, 

as swimming upstream,

current in my face,

undaunted as perspectives go,

the wisdom of contradictions to the flow,

as cause-worthy to die for.

I want to take my last breath

and not remember.

so when my next breath comes around,

I want zeal without a launch pad,

zest without the wherewithal of confine, 

ardor, as every in-breath,

as a stampede, 

verve, as a replacement 

for the utility of my skin,

gusto, as if ego looks back 

with a last wink

and eternity in a timeless way.

when there's never any need, 

ever again,

for a word-spittoon,

in an attempt to tell you,

what I feel, 

I really want to say . . .