I’ve lived with wanting, yearning and an ache
For this night as long as I’ve had memories
Of you. As long as my heart’s been awake
It’s beaten in hope that you will be pleased
Seeing me cross the room. I take your hand
With your offer to sit at your table
And recall the meals shared on a nightstand
With paper plates and plastic utensils.
A feast of nostalgia blends emotions
As I rise asking to please be excused
To a stall of granite and porcelain
Releasing the tension that’s left me confused.
Alone and glancing at the bowl below
Flushing, I’m certain that you still don’t know.
In Partial Remission, Mild