Poem by JD Melling
truth table analysis
to query
“undying”–
i cannot.
coy, yes
but it is early
days / yet–
if i imagine
you, diminished
&
transitory; not
where the fog of our flesh
close-pressed together
recapitulates the glass
or
laughing
coxal sharp & breathless
but
on terminal concourse
where halogen flashes its threats
then, perhaps
(as much as
regret
structures desire, &
in fact how
desire is
future regret)
can i say with
utter uncertainty
– mumbling,
&
beatless into the
glottal air –
“yes”— resolutely, “yes”.
