How about winter and what it does, he’s frozen
and your tongue sticks there forever or it’s summer
and he’s just a bucket of sweat you’re there to
let’s get this over with bathe in or drink up
having already lived life and interested in
living more, or don’t roam but stay in the hotel
staring out the window or singing his praises
or he’s there but not good enough a mirror yet

and yet he’s there, has arms and legs and faces
remote or comfortable like a chair you would
fall asleep in if you could live there but you’re
at the hotel and he’s asleep and staring at him
isn’t how far you traveled or even what (the
wilderness you know) you came here for