counting me, as if I were something
backwards that would eventually disappear
like morning. They giggle, check me
off their points, a not-too-human to-do list
that doesn’t really need tending,
just attention from a blind(ing) audience
as temporary as dream.
editors note:
One hell of a lag time; our answers won’t reach them before they’re gone in a flash of nova we’ll never see. – mh clay