Number 13

You are the season that keeps me awake

The endemic smile sewn on this sun

this nippy sun

Finding myself awake from a painful sleep

of memories

bad moves

how many do we still consume together?

 

You are the restless conversation

the finger sliding on the brim

when my sight is halted

the eyes that are not observing

digging in a shallow

blue

 

You are the trip, the plane, the train

The car with no fuel

The road with no sign

You are the rainy day when my map is not plasticized

The extra charge on my dinner bill

You are the short blanket, the cat that doesn’t purr, the host with no wine

You keep me sitting at the edge of this chair

While holding my hand firmly

Like you would do with a kite

You are afraid to see fly away.

 

 

 

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