Time & time again,
I was the firebreather’s friend
even when the years had over-served her,
and she drove the spaceship earth swerving
away through her darkness, with love in her blindspot.
One of these days, whether you like it or not,
you’ll learn that the objects in your mirror
really are closer than they appear.
I am, I am.
Time & time again,
but until then, you keep on with the spitting in my cup
while I keep on with the crying in yours,
both looming vaguely in distant doors
like ghosts in faked photographs.
But once upon a time we both laughed
and both lived and both even danced together
You say we’re not friends, but I know better.
I am, I am.
But you’re a birthday, deep with the dayshine.
From dusk to moonbreak, the dust of keepsakes.
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