like all good engineers
he tells me in segments
three months at first, then
six months at most, and
then it was Christmas
a b-day cruise, a summer
visit - pseudo stops to too
many cities: now again it
is x-mas. tiny visits along
the way planned to check
how wires still connect. and i texted: why
i cannot do more: no more
band aids on our gaping wound
it needs to be stitched or it
needs to bleed out.
either way we will exist until death
that woman across the sea is wiser
than i, better grounded: she at the end
of you knows: no month will ever
come and no month
ever need come, for her
life is rain.
