Countable and Uncountable

So we have soothed in the calm. it is harmony and there are lights everywhere. we think about our intimacy and wonder if it eventually would be set in stone.

we spot our territories. those preserved versions of ourselves. they are still important but of less consequence.

we remain happy for days at a stretch. Mind works with less vigil and clutter.

We wonder if this is the end of imagination. if this is where we turn dumb and mute.

but, then i see you looking over the fence with a lost glance and i feel that i couldn't possibly fathom uncertainty.

It is winter and as we stride along the field, i wish i could tell you that i feel wonderful.