Valentines Day in the Double Deuce

two cups of coffee so
now i feel that there is
i am to do.

the weather forecast
blinks benignly
from the stillness of
my phone screen.
it tells me to
expect an opulence
of clouds,
though not to
worry about
a drenching.

the windows are
so streaked with
falling water,
i cannot tell
if it is raining or
only pregnant
with the possibility.

i plan my clothing;
this is what it is
i am to do
after two cups of coffee.

look at the forecast,
look at the window,
look through it.

there is a
small reflective square
affixed to a wall
in the compartment
i sleep in.
if i crouch,
i can see my face
in its surface.

two cups of coffee
have me feeling
there is
i am to do.
phone screen
blinking in stillness
tells me to expect
a thorough swaddling.
window tells me
not to wonder
at its streaking.
a small reflective square
shows me
the effort of legs
held at a bent
creasing my face.

all around there is
of our existence,
though still we
wonder at it.

smoke silently seeps
from holes cut for it,
in the lid of a wooden box.
i cannot see the flame
that produces the smoke,
but i trust that it’s there.

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

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