We used to talk through
the interstices, our breath traipsing in
and out as we accomplished tasks
in parallel lines, our time zones
bifurcating some reality we chose not to notice.
You said the crickets are noisy over Winnipeg
and your last transmission was lost; can you resend?
We are offline now.
Your electrical charges have spun out,
joined the grander yet basic forcefield
my belief system allows me to recognize.
At what point will you fade from me?
Yes, it is impossible to pinpoint the level
at which a draining bath signifies loneliness
rather than comfort. And when exactly
does the white of the boiling egg stiffen and cloud?
I want to live within the steamy
atmosphere of proximity. I won’t be the one to open
the window even though I see you running
into an empty sky, the outline of your body dispersing
like the puff of your breath in the cold.
Elee Kraljii Gardiner