tempo
the last bump was eight years ago i pray the man who sold it to me
goes to my heaven i want him clean i want to kiss him
yes yes i’ve been alive for centuries trespassing through the yuck
of every universe i’m still here i’m not here yet why even ask
such a tired question the body sheds the body in its sleep
time is the only thing that passes the more of it you’ve lost
the more of it you’ve gained
Copyright © 2024 by Ilyus Evander. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on July 19, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.