I say I’d like to remain
but I grow restless  and life calls
so I step out
sick from this modern motion I arrive to the tumult of quietude
I thought I would recognize the figures before me
we speak weekly so surely there’s no loss of identity
but there it is  a mom  a dad
long past their do

settling into their nothingness
efforting to hit the refresh button I will
recognize their faces  once again