A hidden good drowns us in sleep so death will not seem so bad.
Dreaming and half-asleep,
it was the best basketball game I ever had;
I didn’t know what I was doing.
How do you understand a leap?
It was sundown. I could hardly see.
My fingers felt the shadows creep.
The court’s darkness taught me to feel—
it became a symbol for not caring.
I found accuracy by not staring.
It must have been that way when we met.
I wasn’t a smoker and asked for a cigarette.
You said something. I pretended not to hear.
I thought: “if death is what I want, I’ll go to sleep.”
I still can’t believe what happened—you thought I was deep.
How is it that we conquer every fear?
You’re gone. Rumors abound. But death is nowhere near.