=Recall=
I once told a wide-eyed child how much I fear
the world. How I lay down at night, my face
sinking deeper into my roasted pillow as though,
if I dim the glow of my phone—
descending from the puffs of silver-lined smog
I could rest easy, contemplating
each star overhead as a beloved moment. Yes,
you said, but I will leave you. And I, being young,
replied, at long as we have this moment forever.
Older now, I drink diluted wine, letting
the downpour drown my irises outside my window,
my humming Mac, empty glasses, apple slices,
comics, debates, the summer sun dripping,
dusk befalls the empty lot
across my drive, chocolate, aspirin,
a good laugh, my friends and former lovers,
memories worn thin as film played endlessly—
and writing this tells me I shouldn’t
hold myself back. But in the midst of all
I want and love, I can scream until the walls tumble
inward. And still not get a response.