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i love the mundane.

i love the mundane. the average,
everyday, routine greetings between us.
the “hii”, the “herro”. i love them more
because i know just about everyone
greets everyone the same. i don’t have
to fear you saying the same to
someone else, because i know you do. it’s
the personal, indepth conversations i can’t
stop being afraid of. if i tell her this; if
she sees me as this; if we share this
moment, will she share it with someone
else? will we be the marker for this
footnote in time, or will we be but casual
letters placed neatly in a row, to be
announced out as routinely as a rolecall
with a thousand more to go?

and beneath these thoughts of failure,
just another monologue

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