so faint.

I hit a nerve, didn’t I?
At 7/8th of a mile,
and with an extra lap to run,
my perspective is in flux.
*
I’d love for you to say
the right things—well,
right for now, in any case.
*
And while we may not agree,
we’ll relax into a shared rhythm,
and will allow surprises only
if they were meticulously planned
—well in advance.
*
What’s a mile, anyway?
Neither of us is being pursued,
and we don’t care about the split second.
Because it’s only temporary.