Another Real Conversation


Photo Credit: iDie at

“Where are we going?”

“For pizza. You like pizza, right?”

“Um, yeah. Doesn’t everyone?”

“I guess.”

“I can’t believe I’m leaving tomorrow. It feels like I just got here.”

“I can’t talk about this.”

“I know.”

The drive stretched out its arms
into the space between us,
the air curling among the silence.

“We’re here.”

“Over there? In that gas station?”


Pizza from a gas station
sounded like sushi from,
a gas station,
but it was the last day.

“Okay. Let’s see what kind of pizza you can buy at a gas station.”

He laughed
and we ate pizza
on the floor of his bedroom.
It was the best pizza
I have ever eaten,

and it seems like perfection
can be found
in unlikely places

like pizza from a gas station
or love at a bus stop,
like happiness on the carpet
and forever in a moment.


Day six is about food, so I tried to turn my conversation post into bit of a poem. Hope you like it.





3 thoughts on “Another Real Conversation

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