in a little room
on a little island
there’s a bit of dark rum
sitting on a table

that table, it’s old.
been a few dinners there,
conversations

didn’t you say we were crazy?

then there’s the grass
the way it feels at night

cold

but it can get pretty hot here too
and you can see through the water
to the bottom of the floor

i mean, sand

wasn’t that the tree you sat in as a young girl?

i mean before you knew my name
In a time when we both existed
but didn’t exist

separate people
indifferent places

and the birds,
they scream up there
can shit on your shoulder too!

is it shit?
is this shit!?

the words i’m writing
on this little island, in the south pacific
nothing much to do, but look around
walk around, buy some stuff

get in a plane, and go home