It was realizing I was in love

that set me five minutes ahead.

I would leave the bathroom

still gargling and have to spit elsewhere,

upset with my mistake.

I'd eat half a meal before it was served,

to indigestion,

jump from the swing before I'd gotten on,

injuring my feet,

and fall asleep before reaching bed,

causing me to wake in disconcerting places,

five minutes before my alarm.

It was tiny disaster everywhere.

"You're firing me?"

"Wh-  yes, but... I hadn't said anything yet."

Then, accustomed, I began finishing

her sentences before a conversation

could have even begun.

2

One evening on the couch, I became

very quiet. My being had gathered bleakly

with strange remains. 

Alone, under my breath,

I apologized to her and said I understood.

She came into the room then, troubled,

and sat down beside me. 

I sighed wherever I kept myself in,

and waited five more minutes.