Wednesday, October 10, 2018

While it Lasts



Every time I record a new poem,

I play it back to make sure

that you can't hear


my neighbor's baby crying

in the background or the

police sirens filling

this side of town.


And when I do this,

I imagine what it's like

for you to listen to the

recordings I send you.


I wonder if my face

replaces the text

on the screen

or if you hear

my voice


only to be flooded

by some emotion


that's been missing

in your own poetry.


Darling, I record my poems

in hopes they'll give us

one more thing to have

in common until the day

these wires between us

dissolve so much that we

are merely separated by

the goosebumps

crawling across our skin.
    

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