after J.S. Bach, Cello Suite No. 5 in 
        C minor, BWV 1011, Sarabande

There is a life
in which I do not find you.

Handedness that does not know
it’s paired, a voice
that does not recognize
its line as counterpoint.

As though I were to learn
the air through which I’d grown
had not been fluid, making room
for me, but that my life
had curled and trellised on
some absent shape of emptiness
that had the shape of you.

The stories of Stickwalking
God, or One-Side: half a man,
one leg, one arm. And yet
he is a marksman
and a hunter. Spear points. Tips.

His half a heart and
its unbroken love. They say
it leaps out from his side
each time it beats.