my god all the days we have lived thru
saying
not this
one, not this,
not now,
not yet, this week
doesn’t count, was lost, this month
was shit, what a year, it sucked,
it flew, that decade was for
what?
we forget what
we remember:
each of us
the fevered few
days we used
to fall in love.
(After Olena Kalytiak Davis)
memoryhouse 