There was never a man with ribs like a bear
whose shucked glasses left
his face raw and tender as a nerve.
He never lifted the gentle brand
of love to me to see how I wore it.
I made our bed disappear like a lungful of air
divided among the cells.
He drew across me like a rock igniting.
It was difficult for me to be so new.
It was difficult to be cancelled like a light
switch. I’ve kept the lace
of memory in absolute darkness.
Now I wish I remembered
whether you held my hand and how.