How efficient it would be
To have feelings
Stored in folders
Labeled “2014” and so on

To work as the calendar
Pretends to.
One day at a time
As if the days don’t blurr
Like a giant stain.

Days blurr
Years blurr
The calendar is a lie
Watching us with its one eye

Sometimes I think of your eyes and I just think, “damn, why does it have to be so complicated”