We talk to monsters When the afternoon light is still good Making home for us on this side Of sliding glass doors. We sit on the couch. With the monsters. You and I holding hands. I find the wonder of an Arizona sky in your eyes You find the earth in mine And we make friends with the air between us. These monsters have become our friends. The past has brought us The pain has taught us This fear has caught us And they sit around us Reminiscing on the adventures that we've traveled. A beater car abandoned. Thirsty treasure hunts. Laughing with those that left us behind. Regrets that we've slept with longer than they deserved. The monsters. They love us. They want to stay. Forever. But they know. A midwestern goodbye. Bye. Bye. Finally we send them along with to-go containers of leftover cheesecake. Thank you, we say, for being a friend. A hearty laugh. And we know. We'll see them again. Soon. Maybe next week. And then. It's just us. A few hours older. Several pounds deeper. Are you still sober? You pour the wine. I slide the doors open. We close our eyes and breathe the embers of the sun. - R.R. Tavárez * Photo by Mary Oloumi.