He called it the longest goodbye. When my husband came to me in the kitchen he looked fore lorn, bright blue eyes spilling clear Caribbean blue waters down the white smooth skin of his cheeks. Waves hitting the sand. His emotions, usually saved for “some other time,” overwhelmed and weighed heavy on me and pulled
I live postoperatively. While daylight casts shadows back east, these hours used and reserved positions like reclining for flying and appointments and tests. Before stage 4, a lap formed by sitting posed an imposition on daily routines. Sex and sleeping happen in bed. Lights dimmed or off. Today my husband hugs at my good side. My left side.