Nothing

It’s been raining bad poetry

All through the night.

It kept me up

And I could not

Hear anything else.

I look and I see,

Infancy, or

A photograph, decade old

Cat’s eyes.

Then you gazing into

The yellow

The white

The black

With one eye closed,

Or open,

I can’t tell.

Your messages

That took from me.

I want it all

Or nothing,

Nothing for now.

Just a few days, live

Only a few miles, try

Temporariness is a funny thing if you think otherwise.

It goes on and on

Like the word itself.

Lonely word.