WEEK 3 (At home, watching the leaves)

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