You said we were fine. Meaning we were
okay. Meaning nothing had failed.
And I nodded, because nodding is how
agreements begin to ossify.
Caring found its foot and moved out.
Don’t think we weren’t checking in—
we checked each other seldomly,
asking hey, how was your day, reading tone,
hesitations and the weather in our eyes.
The order inverted itself. And you can
account for our shared refrain:
how loud we said drop it, leave it, let me be.
We would have engraved them on our rings,
your “I’m tired.” My “it’s nothing.”
Every word came with the wrong tone.
We had the luxury of blame and digging up
quarrels. But couldn’t afford to forgive
and forget why argument crawls into us.