These days I brush my teeth twice,
once out of habit,
twice just to be sure.
I kiss my baby twice,
once to sprinkle love,
twice to assure her of the permanence of love.
Day and night, the city shimmers
in bright neon light and lonely muscles.
On calendar I look at my days
like they’re a glass- half empty or half full.
Maybe they are enough
to fill me up
until I get so drunk and high on hopes.
Memory is like a stranger
peeking from someone’s throwback picture,
I don’t remember a thing,
yet I like the habit of looking at it
just to search for something insignificant,
to glorify what has gone,
to dismiss what all are here in silence,
with me. Always with me.