Conversation with an Ex
in Cold Computer Medium

Oh, hey.
It's been a while,
hasn't it,
since last month--
or two months, or
three months ago.
Since I called you,
I mean. Or
since you messaged me,
less personal but
I guess.

(Easier for you)


So how is it going?
How is. . .
How about your cat?
How is your schoo--
You aren't taking any
this fall.
I remember.
I won't ask.
I. . .

. . .So.


(I want to ask but I can't
and it hangs off my hands
dangling, strangling
just off my fingertips
heavy on the keys
oh please,
God please)

You are alright, aren't you?
I'm just hoping. . .
maybe assuming just
a little.
Because somehow
you were always alright,
I mean. You
were always so very
good at finding someone
to comfort you,
I mean, and
that of course was what--

(Broke it?
Took it?
Tore it apart?)

Back up.
We won't talk about that.

We won't talk about you,
or me,
or you and me
that used to be.

(We won't talk about this,
we won't talk about that.)

When. . .
was the last time we talked
about anything?
It feels like forever,
like heaven and earth

(when was the last time
I backed down and trusted?
And what did I get for it?
What was the consequence?
What do you want from me,
why did you message me--)

It's been a while,
hasn't it,
since last month,
or two.

September 18 2003