Considering Her

This morning I counted

how many times I thought of her 

while thick, starchy toothpaste swirled around in my mouth.

Sandwiches cut into diamonds.

Laces tied with bunny-ears.

Small smiles for cars waiting at crosswalks.

It’s like I can still feel her with me.

I sat in a woman’s office once 

and told her that I don’t think my body knows how to express joy properly–

it hasn’t been given enough practice.

Her hands sat folded in her lap,

she told me she didn’t understand what I meant.

My body moves with the rough curves of the train tracks

as tears creep from my eyes into the corners of my mouth.

Hands that have been gripping me for a while now, seem to loosen.