In the little brownstone in East Cleveland
and how we curled up in companionable
conversation how he came over for chicken
a la king and mac and cheese and met
the family and charmed my three-year-old
and when he asked if he could kiss me
goodbye it was the first good, honest
time my lips had met another man’s
in thirty years

then when we had a date set and my
doc was playing switch-the-meds
their favorite game and my head
was full of bees and fatigue I begged
off asked to reschedule and the reply
was about me needing me time
and maybe it was better this way
and I choked on the losing end
of a wishbone