March 9, 2020

• almost

  

   

  you and i talked of a myriad of things–
  disasters, desires, wonder and dread;
  leftovers in the microwave,
  bookcases, milk you forgot to put back
  in the fridge, table lamps, paisley bedspreads,
  guns, knives,  and leaky radiators.

  we talked of families, poetry,
  sex, lying to loved ones, siblings’ shortcomings,
  unkempt morning-afters, cellphones
  toasted by the sun, kid ballgames,
  mountains, rivers, forests, deserts,
  oceans, desserts, and dreams.

  we talked of love but not of how words can hold it
  together for just so long until Gog and Magog
  lick up the walls of sanity. we talked of old wounds
  and seasons we feared, but never of the
  sibilance of sorrow creeping
  up behind us,  we talked about talking
  until the world ends, but not about how
  our world was ending;

  nor about the fact that you are almost Winston

  • 6:30 am
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