Counting TilesCounting TilesCounting Tiles
The television hums even though it’s off. (You can’t hear it.) I can, and it’s noise - supersonic - disturbs what I was trying to feel about how you left me today for that other space shaped like this house.
I left the counting tiles strewn on the mats. The kids went to music; I’ll have to pick them up and sort them because no order entered my day today -
no control came
from me. The kids knew more about each other, so I let them lead -
over and over - whether the math was comple
ConjectureConjectureConjecture
Where is the line that you pulled tight between us When you started to dream of other years? Does it curve and bend to fit your body? Can I touch it?
When I hear the music of the faraway flute I’m pulled into a dark tunnel and I can’t feel the line so I think about the rice and beans of years ago and wonder if you remember.
I’m calling a new name when I’m in need and another in want but I still think of your line and censure. Can I help it?
Falling down today in the puddle beside the car I saw myself i
