CALL ME BELOVED

I can make anything exciting with enough effort,
even our trips down queens boulevard –
the quintessential example of ‘city driving,’
that white knuckled terror I wish on nobody.
in between being cut off in traffic
and squeezing between pedestrians
I think on four years together.

it’s a block of time that stands alone,
all of the years before scattered
and disorderly in memory, where our time
is ethereal and radiant, a definitive
beginning that stretches out before me
without end.