I misunderstand her question
as we stand out in the driveway
in the cool air that shows up
right after midnight.
Neither of us knows what
we’re doing or what the other
person wants and so we are quiet
while we add up all the numbers.
I think about the make believe
I overheard two sisters talking
about at a diner. Their family
sat at the booth behind our own.
In their world you could choose
someone from anywhere
to watch out for you,
and they spoke about how
their favorite stories
were their armor.
I finally broke the silence,
with the truth, the only
future I could imagine
was with her.
She shook her head
and said she couldn’t
picture anything.
Teleporting Typewriter 