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This is a simple poem

When you go, I will wash
your body, take your arms
each in mine and know,
now, their weight. Pull
the cool sponge along
your side, lift your feet
in turn. I will wipe away
the blood or shit or dirt
your life smeared exiting,
find the white pathways
of your winter landscape.
I will handle you
with more care than you
could ever allow before
more care than I knew
I could contain and still
see the edges of light
around the window, still
hear soft feet approach
beyond the candle glare
still accept a glass of water
from someone’s hand.
I will share this silence
with you and not with
strangers. I will do this,
and you will not know.


Posted 09/28/17
First published in B O D Y, September, 2012.
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