Saturday, March 28, 2020


Once I told you I just wanted
what everyone else
was afraid to—to be both
narrow and deep,

slender and bold,
less a shape than the path a solitary
arrow takes—a straight line
with an admirable slope.

But it's been such a long time since
I've taken up space,
and now I'm sure nothing is left
of that inclination—

even though so much of its math
will always remain
in the sound of my voice wavering
on the phone. Tonight

I wish I could just stand back up
and ride those waveforms
into the glow,
the bright ranks of code,

the strings of positive numbers
I still have memorized—and hope
are still written
all over your face.