we are sitting in the verandah, talking,
and I hear everything but your words.
leaves lightly brushing against one another
the blackbird pecking at a snail in our backyard
the siren of an ambulance in the road miles away
the kettle on the stove, rattling and whistling
clock hands ticking… ticking… ticking…
and at that moment
it takes everything in me to not grab
both of your arms, fall at your feet
and beg you to see that
I am dying.
but then I remember
you are dying too.
that man you told me about that day,
he is dying too.
our acquaintances we don’t speak to,
they are dying too.
and I don’t know how to tell you anything
anymore without sounding cliché.
but hey I hear your voice again;
oh I know,
if I were you I would fail physics for sure!
