its friday night and Time
is late. saw her last thursday
at trader joe's drunkenly steering
a cart toppling with plums. who knew,
Time has time enough to follow each
from seed to sapling to fruit to dust to worms to blood
and still have enough time to argue
with the cashier. i think im being
stood up at this board game cafe
by someone whose tinder bio read
sagittarius moon gemini rising cancer sun
and whose picture was a black hole.
(i messaged first.) whose second picture vanished
after 0.133 seconds. i once loved someone
who was always early and
this made me feel late even though
i was always on time. each second
with him my eye stalks were being shot into a black hole
and there was no escape except the
singularity. that was the first time
i saw her, rather i felt her in the dark
nothing of nothing against nothing making out with nothing,
undulations of Time purring like a cat
on a radiator while i wheezed and
wheezed in a relationship
without windows. Time is, according to her bio,
apparently asexual, lives 300,000
miles away, is the second best
mtg player in the world, and im not
even a ripe plum, just an angry
persimmon nothing wandering
the aisles of joes abode like i would
rather be at costco instead.
when i left him to go to mars i said sorry to my nothing
and his nothing
and they went back into the
black hole where they lived
happily ever after, i think. i don't mind waiting.
i like board games too.