Things I've Lost

Several watches, gifts,
keys, luggage on the plane,
books lent and never
returned, lost time, mail.
Lost sleep, lost loves, some
disguised as lovers.
I've misplaced a ring, I lost
my swim trunks in
the ocean once, my phone,
I've left coffee on top of
the car, my dog in the woods.
I've lost money, hundred
dollar bills right out of my
pocket. Change down
a sewer, phone numbers,
names on napkins, matchbooks.
I've lost my mind on several
occasions, my memory. My
virginity a few times too. I lost
twenty pounds over a heart-
break, thirty over a death. I've
lost my hair, a few teeth, a toe
nail or two, cartilage in my
knees. I've lost the ability
to shake and shimmy while
doing the twist, the swim, or
the mashed potato, but that
could come back. I've lost
my patience, my sense of
direction, my temper, my
voice. A friend or two along
the way, but through it all,
at least so far, I haven't lost
you, or have I.