Was waiting in the waiting room but I already knew
Your mother walked out of the office
We embraced
That’s what you do
At home we lay naked
I rested my hand on her belly
I spoke to her navel—That’s what you do
She laughed
That’s what you do
Got up to the bathroom—closed the door
Ran water in the sink so she couldn’t hear my hands shake
No strength to take a deep breath
No desire to exhale
Just enough self-esteem to
Wash my face
That’s what you do
Stood by the bathroom door
Watched your mother on her side
The rim of her ribs rising against the sunlight
The curve of her spine like a sine wave
Held her from behind
That’s what you do
She took my hand—pressed it against her chest
She was crying but I kept quiet
Slid my foot between hers
My knee cupped her bent leg
The sun set—the room slipped into near dark
The lights of the city against our skin
My lips on her shoulder I whispered
I’m scared
She nodded—That was enough
That’s what you do