... do you say?

Shit!  I wonder outloud
- is it reciprocal?
Damn, I cry inside
- am I dreaming?
Can I ever really thank him?
Would he ever really know …
the scope of relief.

And what exactly do you say …
“… thank you for walking, laughing
into the middle of my nightmare …
… for allowing me to clutch tight
your hand, your heart …” ?
though frightened arms
often scratched and scathed
his soft warm skin
and fevered words
often attacked his adoring heart
he sits smiling on the other end
… of the phone.

And how exactly do you imagine …
life without this that lets you breathe.
The very words, the laughter
escaping him … feeding you
as they explore your entire being
saturating, soaking into every crevice
of your own humanity, your own existence.
And while your body wicks away
savours all those pleasures
you stand frozen, naked
in an endless momentary loss of reason.

And when exactly do you say …
“… I don’t think I can …
live without you …” ?

11.21.06