We are too fast
in this world
don’t you think ?
racing cars
under the canopies
of birch trees
tossing leaves carelessly

as guests
throwing rice
at a wedding.

I’ll wear a white cotton
dress and you wear
you hair the way
it’s gone grey
of late. I worried
today what we might become
if I never made
you real, if forever
we were always glancing
down at a screen,
glancing up at a screen and never
at each others faces –
never slipping frantic
fingers across faces into
mouths along the mountains
and molehills and geysers
of each other – but remained
me giving
me to everyone
near me
wishing when wishes
overcame that everyone
in this world
was you.

Daily
I choke
back the terror and anger
in this dry black
laughter. I wanted
to invite you to go walking
just now.
I’ll wear
these black converse and you
may wear exactly
what you’d wear
of course.
I wondered though what
you might wear though and whether
you would steer me
gently right
and left with your hand
on my neck, and if the skin
on your hands is like
paper
soaked in rain
and dried in the sun
on the rail of my deck.
The wood is soft.
I can dig my
nails in.

Describe yourself
in fifteen words
or less
forever.
What are your strengths and what
would you say

are your weaknesses
in this lifetime
and the last.
Did you let me die
before you?

Are you aware
that on several
and random days
I’m choking on these
bones and leaves
you’ve tossed
in your
emphatic thoughtfulness?
Can you hear me
screaming?
Come here.
Honey.
Come.
here.

please.