I’m learning that the sun

doesn’t rise. It doesn’t really

care.

We just happen to be in its light

sometimes; all at different times,

unfortunately.

 

Things are awry like that. Divine hands

have taken the world on both ends

and shifted it slightly, creating a

fault. Stars

are spaced arbitrarily

and sometimes tragically.

I know; they’ve written legends.

And now I find myself

not unlike that goddess, but

I’ve never befriended crows or magpies. *

 

So I’m left in this city

where the sun has blinked out

for now. You’re here

in my mind and I pull this

other you

into my arms. I check for no

buttons sewn over your eyes.

 

We both live double lives this way;

there’s some

other me

where you are.

I urge you to check there aren’t

buttons over my eyes. That’s important.

 

The stars don’t care

and so don’t the little black birds

flying upwards in an unconcerned storm.

So why should I? I ask myself

 

just occasionally.

 

And I’m no goddess

and you’re no god

so it’s a mystery how you make it all feel

so cosmic.

 

But at the end of the day

I think it’s funny how

the sun never sets

on our love.

 

—For Charlie, 2018

*A reference to a Chilseok (traditional Korean festival) legend.