cornfield chase

baby faced - the interstellar tracks playing

in the background. i’m talking to my best friend on the phone

and texting at the same time. i’m doing

history homework and waiting for

the end of the year. it’s 2018 and then

i’m suddenly waiting.

what it means to dream –

can a mother truly ever tell someone to run?

it’s inevitable, eventually, it’ll become the

same old, same old, an ouroboros snaking to

start again, there’s an axis and to much

to orbit around. i’m the same old whale at the bottom of the sea, the same lonely satellite in the

middle of space. can you promise the sea

when you haven’t reached the bottom?

and what it means to be known - how can i not say

the human is the loneliest creature?