as we tried to put it behind us

It reached out to remind us

 

our grip on reality was tenuously held

just then its tentacles appeared

 

we washed it out with bourbon 

bleached stains of its semen 

 

framed it in our memory behind thick glass 

as it disappeared we couldn’t look back

 

that weird year what was it about

we can almost start breathing out

 

that weird year now that it’s gone 

we count ourselves lucky we can still count

 

we looked for a future in front of us 

only to find it had discovered us 

 

only place to hide was inside of us 

as past and present wound around us 

 

we just had to write it out

with everything we had

 

stringing up all our doubts

leaving them cold in the dry winter air