she's half-held, but nothing you can tell me
is half a way to a fight
so take this half-imaginary heartbreak
and the miracles of kindness and all the hope in your eyes
she's too close and I'll never reconcile
this half-hearted crush and your breath in disguise
 
I'm half-free; it's a desultory fraction
covers half of my body but touches nothing I hold
I'm artless for at least a minute every morning
but that's never the secret to an unguarded soul
so take these half-courageous decisions
things I thought I could write in a book of new truths
a book I've started a century of times
only to find again it's a letter to you
 
this seminary's walls, this academy's decline
this taxonomy of loneliness is no discipline for life
so invert and start over
 
she's not as tall, her hair's a different color
I've no idea who she is at least half of the time
she's too young, I don't know what that smile means
I don't know if I can trust her, but maybe that's fine
 
I'm half free, maybe ready tomorrow
maybe not this one, or maybe this one