And Brother, I am satisfied.

I've felt the rush of a one-night stand. I've seen the headlights barreling down upon you
from across the drunken room, speeding, unafraid of impact. Waiting--wanting--needing
the crash of one soul into another, the collision to create that loneliest type of ecstasy.


I've felt the sudden dampness on your torso, soaking through the expensive button-down you bought to impress her; seen the overpriced fabric change colors in a crowded hallway. I've felt the damp spread, until you can splash puddles of it with your toes inside your shoes as you watch her kiss him and smile how she did with you last week. I've never had my heart broken, but it has ruptured more than once.


I've clung to the frayed edges of the Christmas ribbon that sums up monogamy in the present-day: bed-ridden and coughing up bile; the chemo making thin red strands cover her pillow and the inane 'Get Well Soon' card tucked underneath it.


And Brother, I am satisfied.