Can you remind me what life is?
A moist web of midnight moonlight
Your sleepy, hot breath at three a.m.
Careless cups of coffee in slow afternoons

The nights have been eating me whole
The days have been long, dreary, and cold
Evenings too short to breathe life
Mornings spent taking out the trash in strife

But you have sifted through:
the muscles of my body
the leaves of fall, nostalgic for roots
the slowness of sun break eyes

Can you remind me of the little, fleeing joys?
The grief in celebration –
the salt in the pudding we knew
Waiting to be in hell – with you.