correspondence with a poet friend #2
You are right. I am mostly unnoticed,
a ghost looking back at my partner.
The space between us fills and empties
with the strangest guests. I cannot predict
their comings and goings, cannot imagine
what happens when the exhibit ends
and we all go home. Where our clothes are
no one remembers. How difficult it is to put on
what we bore on our backs when we arrived,
the habits of the people we were just this morning
unrecognizable already. We will struggle
to catch the train on-time. If there is no way out
of the city tonight, we’ll walk the streets
until the heat makes us thirsty.
We will squeeze into a bar and sit
opposite one another. Let the silence last
as long as it will.