Expiration Date


~19 May 2015~


Tuna expires. 
Milk expires. 
Chocolate expires. 
Flowers wither and people die. 
And if life desires to scatter us across the world, 
I hope it’ll be gentle and let me keep untouched 
the memory of your eyes illuminated by yellow post lamps 
in parking lots, 
like Van Gogh’s paintings, 
melting like Dali’s.

And if I find myself many years from now 
in a job I hate, 
a cat that looks like a cow 
meowing at me from the other side 
of a one-bedroom apartment, 
I hope I don’t hate the memory 
of your sarcastic laughter or 
the way our hands found each other, 
fingers interlacing like gentle rattlesnakes, 
their noisemakers imitating the beat 
of my speeding heart.

And if the geography of our mind and bodies 
can not compete with the geography of the world, 
I hope we remember fondly archeological expeditions 
taken in the unexplored land of our psyche. 
Cracked open chest cavities, 
walking hand in hand, 
observing (me, you) like museum expositions. 
Look, but don’t touch. (Don’t fix.)

And if in two, or twenty, or forty years 
you realize that the way my hand 
would slap your skin, 
wherever it caught you, 
whenever I was animatedly explaining anything, 
is a lot more important than the way 
our words may slap each other 
when we utter that last goodbye. 
I hope you think of me fondly and 
with a smile roll your lamp post eyes.

Because I’m aware things expire, 
like dish soap, 
red lipstick, 
and paint, 
us tangled in a web of honesty 
with silent rattlesnake fingers.

But I say it’s okay. 
Because “right now” can last forever, 
and indeed it does. 
Now stretches infinitely and later becomes then. 
And now is enough for now 
and will be enough for then.



Lista de imágenes:
1-2.Carl Kleiner and Evelina Kleiner, Avios.