By Saoirse Pira
The road is long,
it arches softly like the back
of a cat on a hot day
basking in the sun
and I think we’re lost.
The sun is setting
or maybe it’s the middle of the
day, but the birds —
they are awfully quiet.
I think the trees are
drowning and the dust
is hurting my eyes
but you can hold my hand
(please hold my hand)
Time is a slipping like so
much sand through my fingers
my legs are tired our legs
are tired. Come, we should sit down but
I love you and I love you
and that is all there is.