Remembering that he is human, during your collapse
You perform acrobatic mental maths,
Run diagnostic tests, to ascertain the appropriate degree
To which you should lean on him
Charting in milligrams the right weight to offset
Without maiming your darling
Who, like you, deserves happiness, not tears.
He is human
So you remind your right leg that it was married
To your left one at first crawl,
And that as long as you still have two of them
The marriage still stands
And there’s no reason why they alone can’t walk you
Out of the place you’re in.
Also, your arms. Wide enough to hold
Themselves and then you, with a hand
At each end, if you want one.
Morning, you meditate, listen.
To the fleetingness of things,
The cost of craving.
Nighttime, you pray, reply.
Supplicate ‘thank-you’s and ‘please do’s
To continue to love humans,
Such perishable goods as we are –
Brief flashes of light
Confusing our dreams with life
And mistaking our days for long.
Your darling, the human, understands,
Knows your sadness stains what it touches.
Smells something of himself on you, possibly human too,
Holds on anyway, to damaged skin
And bones smaller than his.
Pressing knotted hair to his nose, his face,
He takes your weight for a while
Until you stop counting
And the numbers slip out of your head.