today i read aloud to
alyssa while she cleaned
the machine, between the
purge of the steam wand
and the loud grate of the
burr grinder, I welcomed
a strange catharsis expended
into the shop where my words
filled up the sinks and found
sanction in release, most of all
when I read about Chris--who
has long since left my heart--
but that was only a lie, he
is still there, these poems
are still here, still in the
thick of my spirit,
waiting in cracks
waiting to heal.