of words, let me tell you
I have tried to find
fixtures to fill the gaps laid between us:
corridor, coffee shop, library – landscapes
supplanted with stone, shared
sips, and spines
older than our own, only
to later see how I have nothing left
to give. Only this silence,
and a memory: watching the first slits of sun
wiping the world anew.
The only productive thing I managed to make the entire day despite trying to write a story, revise another, and start a poem.