Still Can't Keep It

The phone knew before I finished asking.

Three letters in, the gray text filled itself—

small clock beside it, quietly unmasking

how many times I'd stood here on this shelf

of not-quite-knowing. Four. The same gap.

I read the answer. Same answer. Closed

the tab. Whatever's stored inside the app

is more reliable than what I've supposed

I've learned. I'll be back in six months, or three.

The phone will fill it in before I ask.

I know exactly what that says about me.

I finished reading. Closed the tab. The task

completed, temporarily.

I looked it up again this morning.