August 26, 2014 § Leave a comment


I thought you’d say goodbye.

I just thought you would, assumed you would, in the way, I guess, Hume, was it Hume?, said we expect to see the sun rise, day after day after day, because we saw it set, once, or twice, and expect, without proof, without sound evidence, without any deductive reasoning at all, that it will come round again.

Hume had no respect for hope.

I thought, assumed, hoped that every hand graze met another, that every side glance saw a quiet smile, that every sunset viewing from the roof of your old elementary school ending in making love.

That every hello became a goodbye.

You fooled me well, Hume would have been proud, because all my other expectations really did become reality, because we really did make love in orange light with soot-stained backs as day became night. But then night did not become day again.

Still air, a black sheet, and one glistening star.

I sat there like a fool waiting for the sun.


Where Am I?

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