May you be seen crying at work.
May the most substantive emotional support you can offer a grieving friend be the febrile sentiment “Sending good thoughts your way” in a Facebook comment.
May your partner never be awake when you whisper “Are you awake?” because you desperately need a sign that…
“He Tells Her”
He tells her that the Earth is flat—
He knows the facts, and that is that.
In altercations fierce and long
She tries her best to prove him wrong.
But he has learned to argue well.
He calls her arguments unsound
And often asks her not to yell.
She cannot win. He stands his ground.
The planet goes on being round.
In the carpal tunnel there’s a crimson door.
On one side is the meadow with its goose trees,
its monologue of fence, its sky, first gray, that turns
fiery and brown, with flecks of gold like soldiers’
eyes, minarets. Bold crescent, a bone, a nape,
the shape a toothache makes. On the other
are one hundred choices—carefully.