i lied about vonnegut

[image: В Плену у Яблок]

where will i be relative to ------------> [stop].
my geography is terrible.
the world map on my wall stares back at me,
highlighting the places you'll go but i never will see
i can't swim or fly or walk fast enough
eating up those kilometres, hours and moments
towards your destination[s].
my finger is pointing on the black dot,
bold letters and fine print -
you will be here and here and here.
i won't know where you'll be
not here, not with me
staring at the map.