How much more meaningful life

will be when

I think

all the things

figure out how to limit my mind from

cavorting in unpleasant places

like your illness and worries

about death

and the piles of receipts

you dutifully collect in a canvas bag

in the basement to shred

but really I want to care more

at the expense of knowing less

not about you but about why

the mattering of even

ideas of things means anything

more than what each one is:

attention fixed on a single moment

where everything holds me here.