Don't take my picture.
Don't be my throat.
this living room
smells like an Amtrak train
smoking car from last year,
but then again, this living room
isn't really mine, now, is it?
Like her father used to say,
forgive Tuesday's rain,
because it is just the same
as Wednesday and October.
Between the identified
and the consumed,
there is no real reason to be me,
there is only ever you.
I looked into the universe,
and saw the dance divided
between rings and things.
Laughter makes my world,
as well as harmonicas and remembering.