In bed – laid on the edge of tears –
but we all are deteriorating –
so these are self-pitying tears
barraged by
this slow use of bagged words –
and you hum a short phrase
as the mobile phones light
our thicker faces
before drawn curtains –
still excluding the morning
and holding back the rush of time –
then
a text showing our daughter skipping
atop The Hoover Dam – she is lightened
by the scale of the world
as we discuss how this
truly affects the state of things –
once the daylight is admitted