Every time
I close my eyes
something
slips,
and they reopen
upon a lesser copy
of the world
they knew,
with duller reds
and more explanations
for magic.
Tell me,
where have you gone
among this scatter?
We could keep
something,
together,
for awhile at least.
And the world
will need
more broken and
restless
fools
to fight this
maddening entropy;
to build
only to lose over,
only to lose over,
and over,
and over again,
each time uttering
a solemn plea
of ‘just this once…’
of ‘just this once…’