Last night I sat and wrote a list,
the Pros and Cons of what you did.
I stared at the wrinkled page with
its simple division
between reality and delusion.
To the left an impossible world,
but to the right the actuality of our life.
And the fact that the bad doubled
was no surprise to these speckled eyes of mine.
Yet I must choose a path to follow
Take care of your heart were the doctor’s orders
a ventricle for life, the other pumping death.
Take the wrong one, be cold and stiff.
And so I sit before the leaf,
your face etched in every frantic scribble,
wondering if ‘idiot’ means you or me.