clutching my breakfast
she catches me
shoving a piece of
bacon between my lips
pressing for flavor
for taste
to know
only to know
that I am still alive
we enter her office
spacious empty
i don’t feel like i am whole
the chairs create
a triangle in the
center of the room
i pick my chair
any chair i want
no one will disagree
“thats not the chair for you…
you need a chair with a future”
i pick it
i sit
the wooden fold up table
cradles a box of
neatly folded white tissues
they will become my friend
they will know the touch of my skin
my nose
my eyes
the grasp of my fingers
and my tears
the will know
my secrets
so will she
together three
we will sit
in silence
