181.

I wish I was still afraid of things.
I wish I still saw the world in darkness
or gold. Not this in-between,
this brilliant pond water.

I am still writing about forgiveness
in a way that means I do not understand.

We know all about panic.
We go for days without sleeping,
because in his dreams there are bullets
and I'm in a hotel on fire.

This is only part of what keeps us away.
Other people have left us
and sometimes we forget
that it was a long time ago.