The Curiosity of Strangers

An evening
talking to a morning,
adrift between the tenses.

Words ferried across silences
by the curiosity of the other.

The library of memory
ajar
to knowing, unknowing
and all the trifles in between.

Vulnerable mazes and bitter seas
from the restricted sections of adulthood.

Pointless passages no one ever read
in the storied clay of childhood.

Delirious earth and symmetric roses
from the periodicals of dreams.

Each dusty page a discovery
in the echoing intimacy of chance.

Now and then, a loud chuckle.
The sound of the universe
indulging itself.