In this moment,
time is distended.
pressing madly against the walls
an exceeding yearning.
“I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Time bent and warped,
a year telling me that a day is wrong.
Why shouldn’t I take joy in a day,
even if it will all be different in a year?
Time presses through the walls,
changing the present.
“Let’s do this.”
The result of these actions
could be avoided by never taking an action.
Is it worth it to still try, even when
the doctor says it isn’t?
Is there value in knowing, and doing anyway?
This is why we cut watermelons,
and hug family who worry us,
and sleep one person in a double bed.
Hope says yes; this is worth it.
Even if the answer will be no,
having the hope was worth it
all by itself.
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