heavy petting

in the mind,
hold the tension between positive and negative,
then step outside of both,
a trick of the Stoics,
whether unloving,
or unloved,
disappointed and lonely,
fulfilled and together,
disappointed and together,
fulfilled and lonely,
I wish I could see as clearly as you,
with impossible clarity,
or understand as easy as you,
with impossible simplicity,
instead I awkwardly wade through the grass,
and stumble through the woods,
looking for some product,
to fill up my time,
like the shoppers in line,
at Costco,
but really looking for meaning,
some kind of deep-hearted-meaning,
struggling to meet it,
in every little touch,
in every little sound,
in every little taste.