It will never be today again.

And by that I mean, I love you.

I mean, what a miracle,

that we are here together,

right now.

How will we be with that joyful circumstance?

It will never be today again

and by that I mean,

I am haunted by the “x’s” that my son draws on the calendar to remember what day it is.

Did I remember well enough, in those moments,

lost among those wobbly “x’s”

that I would never get them back?

That I would account for them, forever?

I will never be this young again,

and by that I mean,

as I age I feel more and more responsible

for each breath I take

and more and more grateful

for decomposition.

For while I know my nutrients will not be wasted when I die,

what will I be able to say to the future,

about this moment?

And by that I mean,

if the worms can taste how much my skin

knew to love the sun

imagine how much more enthusiastically

the seeds will grow.

It will never be today again,

it will never be today

on this goldilocks planet

in this silly little solar system

again.

And for those million, billion stars

those bazillion, gajillion galaxies,

“today” means nothing.

And by that I mean,

everything you are willing to imagine

is possible.

———————-

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