A Finite Universe by Andrés Luís Vaamonde

Forever is waiting

For the popcorn to be ready as

We sit on a couch

With holes that know

Too many secrets. No words

Have been said but everything
Is understood

And the movie is starting

So you

Best be quiet.

Where does

The universe end?

Hopefully, I think

By the end of tonight. That is

Assuming I muster the courage

Or bravado to tell you to get the
Fuck out of my apartment. The credits have

Been rolling since you curled into my

Arms. Do not misunderstand my flexing – it

Is not for you

I think; you and I have overrun

Our welcome. So I tell you in words
I cannot help but

Shout/whisper:

Here. Tonight.

 

You do look ugly

When you cry. But I do also

Envy poets

In moments when everything is swollen

Except for your heartbeat

As it skips like stones on Walden pond

Thumping against a worn tired sweater

That smells of your mother

As you dream on moonlight

By the kitchenette

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Published by

Jeremiah Walton

Jeremiah Walton is wary of writing a bio.

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