It seems near-
In the next city,
In the neighboring village,
In the next street or
In the room beside me.
Sometimes,
in the cusp of my palm-
but never in my mouth.
Is this my forbidden fruit?
the forever arriving hope.
the never reaching fulfillment.
the persistent incompleteness
and uneasiness in the nose-
Sometimes I wonder
if it has passed past me.
I don’t know.
and perhaps I shall not know.
The night is long,
the breeze has been kind,
and the wait, after all,
is a worship that’s blind.
The distance between
desire and fulfillment
tending to halve after
each leap but never
enough to close the gap.
“Sunk cost fallacy “
said someone.
but what does a fool,
who calls himself
a pilgrim know?
maybe Zeno’s ghost
laughs from the edge
of time for being
part of his paradox.
close enough to ache,
never enough to touch.
Achilles outrun by
A slow tortoise-
Fate always has an
upper hand.