beyond the pale
smoke rising above us in clouds
flitting with the ceiling
(or was that flirting)
gathering in soft white clouds
that dissipated before becoming
legitimate storms
weather ecosystems
and maybe that was for the best
giving no indication
yay or nay
of what the coming winds might predict

and here we were
staring into the ice
as it told us
that it no longer remembered
how to become cold
and we shook our heads, my hand on your elbow
laid across the formica table
in a show of solidarity

it said
remember that we never had to question
and this(?)
this might be the first time

after all
wasn’t it you who said:
“There’s a first for everything”


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