Old Friend visits my city in secret,

stirs in next-door apartment. I meet her

with hushed activity. My cobweb sways 

like an entered hammock on visible 

heat, above the radiator. Houseplants

toss in elemental sleep. I half hear

a life lived without me drip, peaceably

by the sound of it, from the showerhead.

Pain without injury risks suggestions

over fourth cups of coffee; crushes once

unpursued dish normal relationships,

pregnant addresses unvisited, and

anecdotes of less and less interest 

for more and more insistence to share them.