hope, at the edges in poetry

hope is a fundamentally liminal endeavor
lust and greed and desire are all about
wanting stuff that you can see
coveting stuff you can touch but not hold
grasping for stuff you can taste but not own
while hope rather rests just beyond your eye-line
hope lingers in doorways
hope loiters at the threshold
hope lollygags on the horizon
waiting to see if you’re coming with
unsure what’s over that line but knowing
the process will make you grow
if it doesn’t happen to kill you
hope is an arcane ritual like that
hope is desire but better
and so much fucking scarier