If there is still a future then we are a part of it.

And there we choose names that follow our feelings: I say

nice to meet you, I’m Yearning, and you say hi Yearning

I’m Hopeful. All creatures do this, as we are only creatures too.

The tetchy magpie, the hurried ants, the curious ibis.

In the future language is a park we spend the day in.

When we find ourselves in silence, the future grows new

words to help us, words for how the back of your hand feels

and words for the look between us when last drink

becomes second-last and then third-last. In the future

we are reunited with the opportunities we passed up

which tilt their head to the sun and say go on then.

In the future we dress the city in mirrors and run

a small but efficient economy of glances. In the future

we’ve invented ways of measuring days that feel like minutes,

ways of touching that feel like a good year. I know we’ve earnt this

because I lived it. Just wait, we are a part of it.