Twenty Steps

If you can whirl your eyes

A frantic circle,

You will lose the ghostly blur

And simply see the blades

Of the ceiling fan.

The arguments,

Anxieties about the bills,

Bloodless commitments you cannot recall creating,

Maybe never really made,

Excitement your pride is pushing off,

The years of warmth behind

A moment of forgiveness,

Of release,

It's all unseen

At twenty steps away.

We erupt,

Explosions into history.

Furiously vaporizing space

And then, we're gone.

Goodbye.

Sit down

And somehow let the fans all run

To quietness.

What do you want

Before you die,

Before you die so soon from now?

- 8/26/25