I hope you would agree,
my dearest sole reader,
that the oblivion was everywhere
we were not
interested in the apathy
invested
in each other.
Listen,
I will speak about what comes up
to the surface in poetry
without using names
I will call you,
I will bury you,
I will label and sort it out
of context
placing things in such a way
You think-This is real,
the sound of air doesn't linger
long enough
to touch one another
And yet we float in the same light,
listening
to each other
fall between the lines,
Hear-
we are.
Painting by Anders Zorn, 1905 in [Public domain].
