Somewhere Else, It Is Snowing
here we forget to water the plants.
so they wilt like the list of things we swore
we’d do once we had time.
you ask, do you think we’ll ever be rich
and i say probably not, but we’re wealthy
in expired coupons and shared playlists.
we laugh, because the sentence isn’t beautiful
but the moment is.
at night, the thermostat groans like it’s haunted
by our indecision. we argue about central air and end
in soft apologies that mean: i still choose you.
outside, a neighbor’s car alarm insists
on being noticed. inside, we listen
like it’s music.
somewhere else it is snowing. somewhere else
someone forgets the ending to the story.
here, you remember my coffee order
without asking.
Sean Cho A