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.