THE PAST PERFECT

It used to be like the first time

I ever saw anything

And now

It’s  not,

A bubbling back, a closed

system

You and I, Just all spinning round

Like in a modern dance

flailing away,

Amputated at the wrists.

Back then, I remember,

It was all there in the autumn

When I was still young and you

Were already a bundle of nerves on the wire

To your mother.

Some things change,

Some things stay the same.

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