the tablets of old

trying to save falling

clouds from drowning

in the puddles of themselves

where among the murky mondays

his eyes are gray

storms slipping back to storms

seas back to savage seas

under glasses after a lifetime

of not seeing himself through lenses

and reflecting confusion

bringing the thing closer to him

him closer to it

until he is closed

and can see no more

on the ground

sinking in him

tongue a useless rotor

against the waters of moses

and most of us

*

what is love

besides a single soul

to be besides

besides a single being

belonging to two

where it is asked

what is it

love

*

the younger you

is going to make

the older you

you

and eventually

frustrated with the

you in youth

who didn’t worry

about the old

thus

worrying them

more