darling,
i had the realization
tonight
that someday
i’ll have to
throw you away,
your toothbrush
your glasses
your socks
your shoes
the suit you wore
when i turned 60 —
please tell me
you’ll wear a suit
when i turn 60
even if you’re the
only man
in the world
who still does —
and i wanted
to start bawling.
i don’t even
know you
yet!
and yet i
could feel the
weight
of missing you
from night ’til
morning,
brave-heart.
or maybe it
will be you
throwing me
away,
brushing the
unruly silver hairs
off my pillow
for the last time
before the dawn.
is it selfish to say
i’d rather
not stay behind
if we
could walk together
into sunrise?
