now
i tell Betty on the phone.
she's coming out of her
yoga class,
carrying her yoga mat
and smoking a cigarette.
no you're not,
she says.
i can hear you coughing.
and blowing
your nose.
that's nothing i tell her,
collateral damage.
the fever is gone.
my throat is no longer
sore.
i can actually make it up
the stairs
without holding on
to the rail.
yesterday i ate
a tuna sandwich.
well, half. i'm saving
the other half for tomorrow.
come on over, it would
be nice to see you.
dream on, lover boy,
she says.
you're going to have to
put those lustful
ideas on hold.
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