Nearsighted

The doctor says I’m less nearsighted than last year. He says they get worse, then better, before getting worse again. I let the conversation go, like a balloon at the beach or perhaps something less damaging to the landscape. Did you hear our favorite restaurant by the pier closed down in June? No more mediocre Greek salads by the white washed cliffs. Still my phone is full of green texts if anyone hungry. Android? Galaxy? Something about space. I’ve been wondering why my thumbs feel sore do you think it’s because everything’s a game? You seem skinnier than before. Or is it maybe the shape of your clothes? Long and loose. Like there’s less of something. I think about this at the laundromat when it’s cold and delicate over and over until the week’s erased