When a moment doesn’t feel like a moment

by Abner Dormiendo

When I think of the world as I do now,
think of that world where you are not anymore
a part of, as it is now, and now is a word

I would want every life to wear in its sleeve,
when I think of that world, I remember the years
it took for our thoughts and our collective emotions

to solidify like a rock, how sediment and sentiment
is similar in the way that they make our passage heavier
and harder to enact, how we treated our histories

like a super-ego, a world-mind, a giant motherboard
in an invisible sky where we are all plugged in
in some sort of matrix that makes us believe

time is an illusion and therefore so are we,
mere flowers in the field, mosquitoes buzzing
on the ear of the universe, taking a sip of blood

before the giant swatter of death hits us in the face,
that despite everything we want to believe
in some forever to write our names upon

and the names of everyone that we have loved
in this small parking lot in one of the millions
of galaxies swirling in the palm of a God too big

to give a damn about me as I exist like an apology
to the mercy of air, that abundance of grace
in the tongue of rain speaking my repentance

to all the nows I impatiently spun into yesterdays
with the finest of regrets embedded in it,
and I would have wanted to tell the mountain

to stay where you cannot, to climb that like I would
a prior lover’s spine and say that, at least for this one,
I got over something I thought would never pass.


Day 16 of NaPoWriMo: Write a terzanelle. It’s another formal prompt, so obviously I passed up. But for what it’s worth, I did try at least in my mind to really push through with it, but I got lazier the more I thought about it. Anyway, this is something I enjoyed writing.