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.