today you'll glide your cursor
past this poem,
like it's nothing, like i'm
nothing

but tomorrow
or maybe the day
after
after
after and then,

serviettes may pile up
our strangership coexists with
friendship,
and bucks and bucks'f starbucks,
and 'good evening' might become
'Good morning'
'Good night'
'Good day'

if that day comes,
when that day comes,
then good day sunshine

i would have found the light in my life
again