5 Jun 2022

Two years in and the virus finally barged in like the boys in the crowd last Thursday. I love you, they scream. They are so loud. They will always be here, a chronic illness, forever out of breath. To live is to be fatigued, or frightened, or both. Just rest.

Outside of an apartment window, a black fire escape is Tatar he’d to a white brick building, windows scaling downward, lit with light of the near sunset.