I imagine you
Old and puffed up from botox
And filled up empty.
I imagine you
Old and puffed up from botox
And filled up empty.
Disguised as caring –
“Marry a cash register” –
You give your advice.
Last day of six years:
Knowing that makes steps heavy
Going in to work.
Phone call interrupts
His tears and separation
From the one he loves.
The comforting sound
Of his chopping vegetables
Mitigates her grief.
Nightmares awaken her
And you comfort and hold her –
She blesses the pain.