in a room aglow with clarity and lack of nebulae
in a room devoid of darkness or excuses i

find suddenly the horrid jarring realization of
cheap truths that turn out to be true

i.e. the one that goes
truth undistilled is not in its native state

but i need you more than drink or food or sleep
i want you more than gin and tonic

so the hated cultivation of waiting begins
i long for the clouds that clear this unbearable clarity

J. Horne