My phone rings. And I know you need me. I focus on that instead of the equally true: you wouldn't call at all if you didn't.
You used to call me in the morning. And giggle when I answered slow and and sleepy. I sounded like a sex operator, you would say. And I'd imagine what I would do to show you...
And though your ringtone is still the same, the person on the other side of the line is not the same.
There was a time you would drive across town to comfort me. I hadn't even realized how much I needed a hug until you'd wrap me up.
I would lean into you. Soaking your warmth in. Like the flower in sunlight, There will always be a part of me that will brighten and bend toward your attention.
A part of me that will follow you to whatever "after".
That knows the moment you walk into a room. Save you a seat at every table. And wait for you to open every door.
A part that will always be English.
And remembers the days when we took equal care of each other.
These parts are as real and everlasting As the parts we left of us scattered on the floor.
You don't have to protect me anymore.
But we both know you don't need to hurt me.
But you'd like to.