They say it uses you up,
but when I squat to greet him,
his marvellous eyes
outshine the streetlight.
He, inhaling on his mask,
'Eric's not what he was –
that's all they see.' Shifts
on the sidewalk, legs
small as a baby's, triangular
to the kerb. 'It's hard to stop.
You go home, cook some,
clean some. Then what?'
I swallow. Days. Nights.
'Omniscience is looking down
causal chains. He needs to know
what will happen.
We can't interfere. We just
come back less.' Blinking,
lizard-like.
'I can still get around.'
