I had to read this twice. You have such a gift for capturing those tiny moments between people before anything is even said. Sometimes the things left unsaid are the ones that change everything 🌹
The white space is doing as much work as the words. That is the hardest thing to learn in poetry and you have mastered it here. And that line — somehow that felt worse than if she'd touched me — that is where the whole poem lives. Because the almost is always more devastating than the actual. The orbit is the poem. The landing never comes. And that is exactly right.
Thank you so much, Kabir. You’ve seen just what I was hoping would worl — somethings do just feel more devastating by being “almost”, maybe it’s the lack of closure, but it’s great. Thanks also noticing the hinge and the orbit. 🙏
The poem quietly reveals something most of us discover sooner or later:
we think we are orbiting another person, only to realize we are orbiting our own experience of them.
The moon is almost incidental. What becomes fascinating is the narrator’s growing awareness of himself. The meeting disappears. The room disappears. What remains is attention becoming attachment, observation becoming projection, gravity becoming story.
“Because somewhere between deadlines and moonlight / I stopped hearing the meeting / and started hearing myself orbiting.”
That feels like the true turn of the poem.
Not a love poem, exactly. More a meditation on the strange moment when desire enters consciousness and the world subtly rearranges itself around a single point of light.
I love how you’ve walked through the images in the piece, Dipti, and stepped into not just the words and scene, but the meaning I was hoping would be seen underneath them.
Such a wonderful reading and one that is close to the piece itself.
The poem stayed with me because it captures a very human sleight of hand: we believe we are studying another person while quietly constructing a story around them.
What begins as observation ends as self-discovery.
Those are often my favorite poems; the ones that seem to be looking outward while secretly turning a mirror toward the speaker.
i really love this one......a pull between....the hesitancy......the meeting droning on..the ways it is sensate....that tug that makes one orbit as the meeting flies away................
The gradual drift between presence and distance, light and wanting, is so delicately drawn. It leaves me thinking about all the ways we orbit each other, even in silence. Beautifully done.
I had to read this twice. You have such a gift for capturing those tiny moments between people before anything is even said. Sometimes the things left unsaid are the ones that change everything 🌹
Thank you George! Yes they are! Sometimes are don’t need to say anything at all ♥️
Gorgeous
Wow! Spectacular Mark! Reading a third time now!
Thanks Eleora!
Who knows what can happen on those late night work calls 🫣
Cheeky you are! 😍
„blue light holding her throat” - had to pick this one out. Lovely, M x
thanks MoTy 🤍
The white space is doing as much work as the words. That is the hardest thing to learn in poetry and you have mastered it here. And that line — somehow that felt worse than if she'd touched me — that is where the whole poem lives. Because the almost is always more devastating than the actual. The orbit is the poem. The landing never comes. And that is exactly right.
Thank you so much, Kabir. You’ve seen just what I was hoping would worl — somethings do just feel more devastating by being “almost”, maybe it’s the lack of closure, but it’s great. Thanks also noticing the hinge and the orbit. 🙏
The hinge was where everything turned. That is where the poem earned itself. Thank you for writing something worth reading that carefully.
The hinge was where everything turned. That is where the poem earned itself. Thank you for writing something worth reading that carefully.
I am blaming that blinking cursor, honestly... It knew the meeting was over before anyone admitted it.
Hehe. Dammed cursors are the bane of our working life, Asuka! Thank you!
The poem quietly reveals something most of us discover sooner or later:
we think we are orbiting another person, only to realize we are orbiting our own experience of them.
The moon is almost incidental. What becomes fascinating is the narrator’s growing awareness of himself. The meeting disappears. The room disappears. What remains is attention becoming attachment, observation becoming projection, gravity becoming story.
“Because somewhere between deadlines and moonlight / I stopped hearing the meeting / and started hearing myself orbiting.”
That feels like the true turn of the poem.
Not a love poem, exactly. More a meditation on the strange moment when desire enters consciousness and the world subtly rearranges itself around a single point of light.
I love how you’ve walked through the images in the piece, Dipti, and stepped into not just the words and scene, but the meaning I was hoping would be seen underneath them.
Such a wonderful reading and one that is close to the piece itself.
Thank you ♥️
Thank you, Mark.
The poem stayed with me because it captures a very human sleight of hand: we believe we are studying another person while quietly constructing a story around them.
What begins as observation ends as self-discovery.
Those are often my favorite poems; the ones that seem to be looking outward while secretly turning a mirror toward the speaker.
I agree, Dipti and it’s a very good insight I hadn’t considered when writing — likely by being to close to it.
We do like create narratives and story around other people that are just projections of our own internal throught processes.
The most dangerous part of this poem is that nothing happens, and yet everything does.
Beautifully restrained and quietly devastating🖤♥️
oooooh - you spotted it! Thanks! 🤍
i really love this one......a pull between....the hesitancy......the meeting droning on..the ways it is sensate....that tug that makes one orbit as the meeting flies away................
Thank you! Such a wondeful reading of the piece Writing ❤️
The gradual drift between presence and distance, light and wanting, is so delicately drawn. It leaves me thinking about all the ways we orbit each other, even in silence. Beautifully done.
Thank you Sunshine! I think orbit such a lovely term, especially when used as a lens for relationships and presence.
This is beautiful, Mark.
Thank you Be!
That right there, Mark 🤙🏼🤙🏼🤙🏼 I dig your style. For sure.
Thanks Sunraze!
beautiful
Thanks Linda