I spend my time in a space
no bigger than a
through wires, binary like
left / right, 1’s / 0’s,
yes / no.
Lately, decisions feel spongy.
Yes isn’t concrete, it grows.
like one cigarette leading to
hundreds more. Like one
drop rippling from a leak. I can’t say stop.
I don’t want to say no to an invitation
to be wanted. But I can’t hide
flickers of no dance on my face;
stretching me in just the right
ways to fake a smile.
A smile comfortable like crossed arms.
No isn’t a resounding yes to lonliness.
I can bounce back, and no isn’t simply:
try harder. No helps trod a path to the