You say we’ll talk of hopes and dreams
(Implied: “The things to come”--
But we do not speak of things to come).
As yet we’ve only gone so far as
Theoreticals about old age
But not our own.
We’re very good at now and then--
Can wax poetic on what we have
And what we’ve had.
We leave a trail of crumbs
That point the way to where we started
And make landmarks of moments
That harden into inedible permanence,
Like painted, commemorative plates,
“Decorative only. Not for use.”
Printed underneath the glittering pictures.
You say we’ll talk of hopes and dreams.
I’ll tell them plainly now:
To take those lovely, glittering plates
Commemorating your sleeping face on my pillow
And smash them,
knowing you’ll bring me a new set tomorrow.