Post Talk

by Alexis Briscuso

i mark the aging of my personal cadaver 
by the amount of holidays i’ve spent 
with you and not my parents. so far it’s
four. i’m supposed to end this and i can’t
when we ablate our idiosyncrasies into 
syncopation i can’t when we make that no
go bag plan to meet in the middle i can’t 
when shit hits the fans at yankee stadium 
don’t you see there’s an arc in all this
nonsense. i hold an image of you like the
redhead on the subway with a magnifying
glass i told you i would not chase or read you
under separate cause anymore. i thought 
now, i wouldn’t be able to draw you with 
your own words anymore. maybe that’s true.
i don’t make wishes on your breath anymore.
we can’t lose – who? – anymore. i’ve never
exhausted so much of my own worth on
someone who needed to be told. when the
L speeds under the river and it rains
you can see the pause in the droplets. i
paused along droplets. i shed a lot of water.
the umbrella a young boy uses as a gun, cocks
it accurately and snipes. you rung me like
a sponge and had no idea how dry we’d get.
i didn’t either. i didn’t know how bad it would
become. i realized i’d rather trust you than
love you i’d rather have all of you than no
sun i deserve that shine we deserve that 
ease like it was before. i got diagnosed 
with real fucking conditions. i would like 
to move forward. i would like to find your
laugh as genuine again. it will probably take
some time. but this is a start. i tell you 
i do this with you and feel closer to you,
as my friend. …………. i smile. you agree. 
you settle. you smile. we kiss. i tell you you 
are my brother. we laugh. i am so slighted 
by the sun behind your head i make halos
with my pre cataracts and you tell me we 
will be there for each other in all types
of crisis 

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