365 X 365

by Robert Krut

Robert Krut

Every day is a finger, every week is a fist.
Friday is the devil’s day, the devil is a day sleeper.
I’m counting down to see you.

If you’re reading this, I’m talking to you.
No need to figure out the you in this calendar.
Hear my voice in your ears.

I hear yours.
Light a candle for dancing, watch shadows on the wall.
Shadowbox in preparation, you are concrete ballet.

I am concrete ballet.
My hands are cinderblock, my feet are clouds.
Are you marking the days.

Mark the weeks with an X.
I’ve tattooed an X on my arm.
You’ve tattooed my name on your hand.

I am grasping your arm.
I don’t feel it, do you feel it.
Each tooth is a tombstone, both eyes are a fuse.

My body is a calendar, your body is a calendar.
Monday is a new Monday, but you saw that coming.
I didn’t.

We’re wrapping in a circle, a loop of a piercing.
You are my earring, and you are my ear.
We are dancing.





Last updated September 19, 2022