1080

we were stuck
listening to the same song
being tempted by the term
anachronistic
and well,
being bitter

she would get up to change it
and I would sit still
like a fox by the window
in springtime
thinking
“is this it? is this really
truly
it?”
and she would laugh
and lie back down

now you might ask
what the difference is
but the difference hadn’t
been fleshed out

for a while
it was turning around
to see if it’s just the glass
or a new discovery
mostly
it was the latter

the song played
the blinds drooped and sagged
I would get up to write
she would lie still
thinking
“is this it? is this really
truly
it?”
and I would laugh
and lie back down

what else is there
a long street
and a hard to describe
mountain
with echoes bouncing
through the valley