The more I write, the more I feel the gap
From the immense, the real of skin and eye
To what I write or draw upon a map
When you lay still, my skin around you wrapped
I touched you with my nerves but made no cry
The more I write, the more I feel the gap
We can hold a baby on our lap
But not a husband who needs space to die
What could I write or show upon a map?
Words like little wires, a rabbit trap,
Catch a moving moment as it flies
The more I write, the more I feel that gap
There is a silence, music is surpassed
A puzzled truth and not wordly lie
What to write or show upon a map?
Can we close the lids, the lover’s eyes
Sorrow follows couples like a spy
The more the words, the more I feel the gap
The real hides as I write, there is no map
