I’m in a particular time in my life.

Still, nothing much seems to happen.

I drink coffee. I fold laundry. I try

to forget. I live, lonely as an archivist.

I read a message from a man who says

he wants to put me on a coin, meaning

he wants me in his pocket, or else, to throw

me in a well & I’m easygoing, I’m cool, I’m DL,

I’m down, I can come around to his place tonight.

I can offer him my good side, my profile in good light,

I can stretch out on a bed he made for me.

I can forget my own loneliness when I imagine his,

I can leave through the same door I walked in,

I can expand my epic & put him in it,

I can go home & add what he gives me

to my own lineage told in Latin proverbs.