I wrote three poems and two
prose about you in my sleep
but then I woke up and
couldn’t remember a word.
You took a hammer
and obliterated all the walls
separating my organs.
When I asked you,you said
it was because you wanted to hear the steady lub-dub
of my heart muscle more clearly.
When I ruffled your hair my hand
pulled back with
tufts of it. We pretended it never happened.
You asked me to lean in;
you needed to wash the bitter aftertaste of the boiled cauliflower
you were forced to eat.
“Can’t a dying man get a decent gourmet meal around here?”
The sound of your restricted esophagus and
choked cough echoed off the walls and
You teased me about my
newly-shaved head, said the nurses would
think we have a bromance going on.
My alarm didn’t go off and
Prince Charles, my dog
(you scoffed at his name)
had a fit and chewed
most of my clothes
the bathroom sink
Your bed was empty today.