Last Night

Take from my hand
the glass of green tea
and set it aside. 
It reminded me
too much of all the tea
I’ve had so far in my life,
and I can’t learn another thing
from it.

Do not bother
to cover me, if anything
has slipped and left me exposed;
I am past personified.
I was born more naked than this.

Pick up the pipe
that fell to the rug from
my knee, gather
the still glowing litter
before it burns through
to the floor,
and forget about salving anywhere
it may have burned me.
I don’t even feel it, I’ve been
burned so often before.

Let me sit here a while like this.
Mouth open. 
Hand empty.
My skin spotted with ash.

I’ve stopped caring
for the present or the future.
After a while, it all felt like the past.
It’s all a “used to be” now,
and it is enough
that what happened once
happened at all.  I don’t need
a new experience.  I do not see
how it will help.