At 4 a.m. I vividly remember her smell.
This is only a problem on nights I’m desperate for comfort,
when I remember how we used to sleep together,
waking an hour before the rest of the house,
so we could have those few hours together,
what we assumed was a preview.
That was too many years ago to matter.
So let’s work out a deal, you and I.
I’m 22,
In decent shape (though it could be better),
My hair is thinning (though not bald yet),
I talk for hours about books and poetry,
–Did you know …
–That’s just like …
–That reminds me of …
–Have you read …
–Haven’t heard of that, what’s it about …
–What should I read next …
I’m an unemployed semi-professional writer,
I spend my days sinking time into online writing communities,
I have a Zen parasitic relationship with Minecraft,
And I’m old enough to realize I don’t have any idea how this shit works,
And young enough to pretend that I do.
How about you and I hitch these wagons up,
And do the million mile tango?
