Design a site like this with
Get started

Poem: Existential Conversations: I. Isolation

“We’re alone,” she says.

“No we’re not,” I responded to her.
I gesture at the café full of people,
she looks down into her empty cup.

“No, I mean we are alone.”

“I’m here with you.”
I smile and reach for her hand,
withdrawing it she looks out the window.