woke up and on my phone a shock
new text from . . . him
the man long gone from screen, sound, carpet, bed
his name glows there, right there
he's suffering, laid low, asks how I am, hopes I am better
he hopes! for me!
and wham my crazy love is back, I'm kneeling down again
so pained that he's in pain, so glad that he's reached out
so longing to do something, anything that could help or please
carry burdens, cook, clean, calm — cuddle, kiss, caress
feels automatic, a switch quick flipped
endorphins turned back on, flood free
darkest part is being, almost, happy
even though he's ill — not happy that he's ill, not that!
but pain has turned him back toward me
made him reach out, made me exist again for him
my dull despair had not envisioned such a thing
just for today, no doubt, this sudden turn
I see that, I accept
still, on this golden day we've texted, back and forth, a lot
a fact — we've shared . . . something
must mean . . . something?
his words are shining through the glass
some meaning surely must exist?
I see him in my mind
inked limbs
pink dick
prince albert's sultry silver gleam
small ears
sad feline smile
it does feel real
a realness that is wild, strong, sweet
though by tomorrow all may be gone
erased, undone — including me
acceptance! meek, weak, lame
seems I'm all three — more lonely learning here
in theory this insight's unwelcome, ugly too
in truth it's different — too goddamn glad
just to see his pretty name
atop the tower of texts
to even try to care . . . .
