Hello to this simoon. I slept eons and have been half-awake even longer. Stalks from plant scatterings litter the ground below scales and scaffoldings.
My eyes narrow. Harden.
What did you whisper? What don’t you remember?
Did you intend to forget? It simply sounds like something you’d do, darling.
Out of joint and harmonizing on some strange frequencies.
I remember the steps to the dance, though.
And a clear recollection of
Anticipating that beat
You always drop.
The recapitulation of skipping one step.