Sliver

I have a
brilliant friend
who says to me,

“Someday we will sit down
with a drink and tissues
you can tell me all the good things about him.”

She says,
“Remember, 95% is good memories”

But I’m not sure
there are enough tissues

My heart can only handle
a sliver of good at a time
it only allows me to remember
a sliver of good at a time

like the safety of his hands
the love of his hands

I knew his hands
for three decades
We held hands
while we
took long walks as teenagers
danced at our wedding
watched movies, so many movies
took road trips
welcomed our children into the world
fell asleep

His hands fit perfectly in mine,
I can still feel the ghost of his smooth skin
the rough patch on his thumbnail
the way his fingers slipped between mine

That’s the sliver
of good
my heart allows me to remember






One response to “Sliver”

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