it is immense
her voice is young and light.
i have no time
for any of that she says.
he chuckles for what.
mushy nonsense she says.
he tips his head back, closes
his eyes (they frustrate him
so, they don’t work as they should)
arms on each rest
in his chair.
i sit here alone
for weeks and weeks (eyes
still closed) and i
am glad when someone walks through
the door he says.
his voice is old and quiet.
