And Day Brought Back My Night

It was so simple: you came back to me
and I was happy. Nothing seemed to matter
but that. That you had gone away from me
and lived for days with him – it didn’t matter.
That I had been left to care for our old dog
and house alone – couldn’t have mattered less!
On all this, you and I and our happy dog
agreed. We slept. The world was worriless.

I woke in the morning, brimming with old joys
till the fact-checker showed up, late, for work
and started in: Item: it’s years, not days.
Item: you had no dog. Item: she isn’t back,
in fact, she just remarried. And oh yes, item: you
left her, remember? I did? I did. (I do.)

– Geoffrey Brock

he’s writing again. popping up in a chat like the most captivating jack in the box you could ever imagine in just a name on a black bar with that little green dot beside. 40 some lines a time. i am swept up 3 lines in and start to hurt by the 35th. he knows this. he knows the timing, the strings, the inside of my chest cavity, with such intimacy and precision. 


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