Do I need to just keep writing you? Staring out from behind glasses,
I focus
The bus stops
I don’t get off anywhere
And the city rolls out
behind me
with its ivy and its replaced houses
We peak in the windows
and see basements.
Things at the water table
that will become old
someday and fall to pieces,
circles of soggy paper
that once held the grins
of someone you loved.
Someone you lost.