The way she said 
                 "You're wrong!"
made me aware opportunities
once available to me
no longer exist

I wanted to tell her to
spare me words
in the absence of agency
queries about the end
of life
eating and sleeping
reducing death
to an ill fitting
coat

to stop worrying
about our waist lines

I wanted to suggest we
live out our days in the Dodorgne
with Masons

laugh as moonlight makes
room for doubt
in a garden
of lingering uncertainties
with our brothers
and sisters
at the Moulin

who gather and dissolve
in this mid-summer night
like hermits calculating
discrepancies
in the hierarchy of means
and meaning