Saturday, August 17, 2024

turn back before it's too late June 2013




I went south first,
 and then came north,
 she calling in sick
 on this sunny day, 
texting me to ask 
again and again
 where I am and me, 
testing back
 with a progress report
 from each stop light,
 while asking myself:
 "why am I doing what I am doing," 
in broad daylight,
 knowing these things
 need to be done after dark,
 my heart beating faster 
than it ever had, and my brain,
 stirred up like some witch's broth, 
a spell I cast on myself 
yet for no good purpose, 
each light blinking red 
as if a warning, 
telling me to go back 
before it's too late when 
 driven on by her texts 
I already know it is, 
later even than I even 
I can imagine.



email to Al Sullivan

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