i was fine
in every crevice
filled with appropriate fluids
blood pumping,
organs throbbing (?),
oxygen doing whatever it does
getting along.. just fine
now I am weeping over your tools
your beautiful fine, handmade tools
i am distraught at the realization
I will never be fine again
jesus christ,
this will be ceaseless joy
or unflinching agony
I wipe my snot quietly,
in the kitchen.
I grind the coffee beans,
heat the water,
aerate the milk,
whip honey & cinnamon into a paste.
I bring your mug to your hand
and i linger when our skin meets.
I sit next to your knees
and forget the thought
in one of our breaths
I laugh and hold your stare..
as if I could do anything else..
– sheila c.