My mom took a picture of me
as a kid. When she had the film developed,
I was both myself
and a horse. I asked her how
she had taken a picture of my thoughts.
I chew the snap pea you placed
in my mouth. I can taste
my future and maybe
Still, here, with my feet on this bath mat,
I wonder when I will be good enough.
I hear you carrying boxes down the stairs.
I think of pasta and driving at night
with the sunroof open and the radio blaring.
I hope I die
before I forget
On my last day
on Earth, the person I most want
to say goodbye to