Words that appeared while playing something or other in D

who are you today remade
in lines
as familiar as my bed

or the headlines in this morning’s
paper tossed on our porch
from the past

did you mix the crowds
from yesterday
into your coffee this morning

and did you repeat
those words you heard
at the end

of the play when the world
didn’t change
no not at all

when we were on
the other side
of the door walking through

first November snow

are your gestures today
as dramatic
as a soap opera play

where it’s always
absolute love
or the end

in a rush of music
that seeps
from the fabric of the room

like the sighs
of a million voyeurs
with blue eyes

watching the world
drip away
from brown to black

and disappear