am i
immune
now
to the manipulations
of a dying man?
i thought
when i read his text
last night.
and i think of him too.
but i was off to bed
and not interested
in a frustrating
tap tap tap
before sleep.
and
i wondered,
did the
inoculation,
the redesign
the shedding
of the old
me’s
take?
should i risk it?
do i
tell him
i slept in his shirt last night?
well, though,
only because
i had nothing else
as comfortable.
it’s never been me
to turn away
just because something was hard.
and
i know
he will ask,
“what do you want?”
and
can i now
answer
that?
and
what do i make
of
that blue-eyed one
showing up
there
behind me in line?
and our walk down main
as we discussed hot sauce
before he went off to his game
and i
on a date with myself,
to eat some foreign food
and maybe find a dress for the wake.
oh, yesterday
was just one of those days.
but,
i found the dress,
and a second-hand pot,
and a pair of shoes,
so there’s that.