last night we sat talking about our past together in a strange kind of reminisce
what was, what could have been, what is, what may be
also what may not be
all tenses conglomerated a snarled string no longer a line
you were sitting across from me
voice soft and reasonable recounting razing
behind your eyes and the certainty of burned bridges

(if you speak of possible in gradients of distance,
also speak of no longer possible as contracted horizons
folded and put away)

this kind of determining, the pruning of a strange tree
still drawing nourishment
braced and wired
still growing its strange way toward the sun

what of us
of all the candid inquisitions was the question never asked

i cooked dinner because i wanted to
and you let me harass your kitchen with bits and smells until it was ready
that''s how we inched toward not asking
everything a hostage subject the fixtures the placemat the magazine you kept

all this time

all this time