You live between now and then,

and you are

on the way

but not yet departed.

 

You stay between two lines

but cross neither:

held in that uncertain space

between all that is

and all that is not.

 

You are this

but you want to be that.

Not home

but searching for a home.

You are living in-between,

in a place of certainty

and uncertainty.

 

Neither in one place or another

there is no choice

or opinion;

for you live

desperately

in that border territory

where you are forgotten

but still remember.

 

You remain alone

but always with others,

directed

but with no direction,

living and dead.

 

28/7/11