I am so busy now, but sometimes
I forget to concentrate, forget to cleave
to my research like a dog to its master—
forgetting also to be the vigilant on-site veterinarian
at the livestock auction, checking the hooves
and teeth of premises, discerning which ones
are strong enough not to buckle beneath the weight
of the conclusions I need them to support. Forgotten
the article, and its title, and forgotten, too,
its careful crabways crawl towards the True,
or was it always just a slither towards the truly
publishable? Let the loose veneer of all of this
flake away like centuries-old goldleaf,
until a window is revealed piece by piece.
And through that window, a vision of you,
loveliest acupuncturist, pushing
soft rays of light into my chest and eyes.