silly misunderstandings we had like after that party
when you drank too much and
I threw a vase across the room
you threw a plant
pieces scattered over too many years
to glue back with sorry . . .
I was too the night I fell into Robert’s eyes
and needed to be rescued
I must press thru
the fine print of weekly trivia, of credit statements
and job worries, demands of friends & a cat to rescue you
search thru all the places you should be
words that don’t make sense
without you . . .
when I came down with pneumonia
and 103 I heard you say,
“It was like sleeping beside a radiator”;
I don’t question why those words, not others
or how a bout of flu and pneumonia
burning at the same intensity 15 years apart
brought U back. Like I don’t question why
it feels so good to be alive. It just does.