A sentiment describing right now
I’ll always remember you
reading Walt Whitman that summer
but now its warmer than it should be outside,
nearly five years later
and it feels like we’ve barely spoken.
I’m having one of those moments
I know I should try to hold onto on purpose,
where music can almost levitate you
(maybe its just the air mattress)
but I could swear it’s the fiddle.
Wondering now what the new Star Wars
sounds like with a Polish voice over –
always that same man-voice –
for folks with bellies full of carp and pate,
or for me.
When you said it was ok to cry
in public, I could never have predicted
it would stay with me this way,
this way that it has,
and yet, I cry less often now.
I thought about your gestures,
though it seems I’ve forgotten how
you move your body to tell me something.
I read books quickly these days, flipping the pages
as they dictate the angles of my hands.