Alex, or Better

Alex wished me love,

always,

after expressing the need for freedom.

I grieved tears,

but still,

asked the world for Alex,

or Better.

When feeling detached,

I could receive Alex,

in abundance –

On the couch,

my bed,

their son’s Spider-Man sheets.

When weeks went by without hearing from Alex,

I received Better –

attention,

affection,

respect from a lover.

Better wanes,

of course,

from lack of definition,

threatening to tilt scales back toward Alex.

Now,

I know Better,

and that’s all I ask for –

To fill gaps of space with the love they wished for me.

Thank you, Alex, for Better.