Something Really Important
Every time I see you
I forget to tell you
something really important;
instead, I see the light
stream across us both
and think about the sun,
how small it seems and
how inconceivably faraway
and huge it really is.
Then we’re in the supermarket
and I silently feel hopeless again,
inching through waves
of unchosen food
quickly rotting while
millions of people slowly starve.
At dinner, as usual, I’m worried
that you’ve noticed my silence
by now, but all I can think
to say is that I don’t love
the blonde lettuce as
much as I thought
I did. Later, again,
I’ll think of
something
really
important,
but probably as we’re both falling asleep,
so then I’ll decide I can just tell you
tomorrow.
Love always,
your Mister
Lonely Hearts Chapel 