is it possible
to have an empty planet?
to one by one remove
every spice from every jar and
crush every sound into nothingness,
to with pointless verve
sever each friendship in the world,
to watch the end of a century with
no one but a hollow clearing, and
vacant sky above, orange heavens
above the last person alive, where
are you?
you have flown south with humanity,
flown in your car to someone else,
found the deepest love in the center
of another world, made love to the
devil there, and forgot me.

is it possible
to have an inhuman heart?
how much laughter does it take
before one's eyes burn out,
how long until you cut your hair
and leave for the disquiet outside
forgetting your ancient smile
at the doorway, leaving your aged
assumptions with me, alone
i watch you sail away, always an
ending, perhaps the clouds
empathize with me, for how can
anything last but misery
when everything, everyone is
always working so tirelessly,
so assiduously to become
one with yesterday, with tomorrow,
with nothing, to disappear.

how can it hurt so much?
can you remember that love is orange,
that orange is yellow, that
i still love you?

i do.

 - "orange," connelly barnes 2001-12-30