Constantly Elsewhere

The nowhereness, the nothingness, the absence of you
Is in those your words unspoken,
In what your eyes haven't broken
open, 
In the straightest stream of sunlight upon a syllable askew.

The almostness of youness, this nearlessness thing
Upturns in garden rows, unpoetried,
Hangs by a nail in spaces, ungalleried
Incognied
Like notes that dangle from the lips of a man who yet intends to sing

This gap-ness, this would-have-been happiness, the nothereness you are
Lies, dies, in the dust of unreadness of my book,
Cries with the notness that knowing, with just one look,
took
Like stories still unborning, in realms still a-churning, in worlds still afar.

The unbeing and unseeing and undoing of wherever you are there,
Is the diziness,
the everydayness of business,
Isness
Of your constantly, so constantly, being elsewhere.