There are moments common to all of us
when we wake from sleep and do not know
the time or even the day, moments
when we decide not to find out right away.
I know that just as I do, you lie there disconnected
and think of all your firsts: first pet, crush, love, cigarette,
drink, blood, kiss, sex, death. All your recents:
current pet, crush, love, cigarette, drink, blood, kiss, sex.
You consider death separately, right before
the moment (common to all) when you choose
to look at the clock and remind yourself
what day of what week we are in. You consider
death separately as it means something different now
to contemplate the idea of the most recent death
in your world. You have to count on your fingers
and then get to know the calendar again, asking
if it was Todd or Joan or Aiden or Mike that was
the most recent. This is how we keep time now, how we
pull ourselves out of the blur. We fumble for glasses and phone,
asking: are we still here, still in recorded time?