I swear I'm not going back to look at previous days' work. Sometimes though, it seems I am.
Thinking about what to do next
He doesn’t feel sad about her.
He knows time is our own invention.
Besides, that’s not what he’s worried about.
A woman in a blue skirt and aqua tank-top
drinks iced coffee at a sidewalk bar.
The idea of what makes war or joy is beyond her understanding.
She shakes her head as if dislodging water from her ear.
All they know is that two worlds collided,
the given life and the life imagined;
that fear, anatomically speaking, only asks us to choose—
does not have an opinion—
that a lifetime can’t be measured until after the fact.
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