I stand facing the painting
a blank grey-white canvas pulled taut
seven slits sliced through
and between slits canvas bulging
forming ridges pulling each slit to its neighbour
tension caught between slits and canvas
inside and out
and don't reach for excuse
as I find I am interrupted
and not because I can't add to the work
the space so great between us
but because the space closes as I realize this:
I find with you with me
that I forget myself with delight
carried along
through stories European countries
what you plan to do
you pull something of my life apart
without disruption.