01302023
wherever you go, there you are

to know how cold it is outside
is obvious, no news to me,
no news the sudden vocal
cords of small machines,
dishwasher, echoes from
the laundry room

Once emptied
of thoughts, I am
a liar, I am elated,
triangulating
the many paths
of longing
without footsteps
without retrospect

When my eyes
ar e yes that trace
figure eights
through blank
air without love
when tinfoil eyes
when empty
when explicit

Excuse me.
I have not slept
in days. Please
carry on.

You will want to know,
of course, the answers,
provided there are
answers that you will
accept, and they will be
obvious to the degree
of yesterday’s weather
forecast, and the way
I look at you when
(_{stars in your eyes})
the way time stares
when it’s running out
fast, and you tell me
there is time, but there’s
no time, there’s only
the idea that one can be forgiven
for dust