red afternoon

since time is now a listless loop, 
spiral bound for elsewhere
ill linger here, adrift like atmospheric rings

across the breakfast table 
bright red amaryllis neatly resting
at a distance, on your shoulders
you speak, but the flowers
are covering the view of your face

your mother lights candles
because, midday, the midwest
sun is sleeping

we delicately discuss 
how our lives came to be, 
your mother pulling cardinal-colored yarn, 
she neatly unravels the unwitnessed
labor of some bygone someone

i say the thing i always say,
the dream i keep forgetting
the future is a pulsing ribbon, wine red
i finger the loop, it comes undone

you grow your beard long
i cut off all my hair
a fire comforts us and in return
we keep it feed and breathing