It’s not that 
I don’t care 
but that I
don’t care enough 
for you see
enough is a
me my thing 
and don’t is
a you thing 

Outside the world 
carries on unaware 
or maybe unconcerned 
cars like zippers 
back and forth 
trying to regulate 
time it takes 
but in here
coffee cups steam 
steady moist streaks 
that quickly dissolve 
into mornings aroma 
in a few
warm tumbled clothes 
will be finally 
ready for wear 

If I occupy 
anywhere it’s where 
I occur anyway 
a small spot
maybe a freckle 
or a tear
down someone’s cheek 
or a dog’s 
bark at night 
or the corner 
of some room 
next to dust
bunnies and that
one missing sock

Alone has set
in my bones 
I look but
never really see
I hear but
hardly ever listen 
I have no 
interest to engage 
I’m a bird
on a wire
only interested in 
ever flying higher

This death that 
keeps on dying 
I revisit the 
grave flowers of
regret in hand 
and place them 
I do softly 
but now I 
must not return 
for my mourning 
is finally done 
and I like 
you must move 
past each other