I’ve been tasting distance in the way a road does–
winding distance, empty distance, distance 
that is not distance but is instead
bumper-to-bumper traffic.
The space between us
is an artifical gully
in this electronic
age, but I can’t 
give up the
the gulfing.
It is a luxury I
exhaust into the air
like so much smoke. I vanish
into myself more and more each day. 
Distance like an empty highway. Distance 
like a trail I follow, its lack and beckoning path.