Slow Descent

I never understood how the letters we send through space get from here to there. Do you feel like explaining it again? You should know I threw my phone under the bed this time. That’s not even a metaphor for anything I’m just tired of looking at it. I’m going to leave it there for a few days if I can manage you think I’ll make it? There’s a dull pain behind my eyes. The kind that forms after too many minutes face to screen. They were right about buying an alarm clock. It’s easy and it does the job. Reminds me of how our parents had it. I don’t think I told you but more and more strangers keep asking me for directions. Does that mean it looks like I know where I’m going? I keep searching for eyes while we wait for the 6 train. Good luck finding someone with their head above water. I don’t mean actual water not sure if you can still read my mind. Did all of that go to your head? Half thoughts and fragments floating in and out of your brain. They started over here and ended up over there. The overflow must have drifted to the space that grew between us. Sometimes I imagine you found a spot in the grass. A sunny patch with space for your head to rest facing the sky. Your palms turned up ready to catch and bury any of the remaining words we said or didn’t say. Sun burning the surface of your skin as you watch and wait for them to make their slow descent.