For Fija Rose

I didn’t pay attention to the contents of

Your soul enough

To send you that Poem in a letter

Truth is, I’m only writing that Poem now

___

I told myself I would never fill your tea cup

With coffee, but I got lazy

I told myself I wouldn’t take your things to

Work, but I didn’t listen

Your red scissors are now used to cut

Parisian gnocchi

Which I find perfectly humorous

Considering you’re close to Paris

Last I checked

___

You told me the blood of the covenant

Is thicker than water of the womb

And you made me feel like

I was your family

___

A thread frayed

Was your face when you spoke about love

Rare was the absence of tenderness

Faintly delivered from your mouth

When I hear the word “wee”

I hear it in your voice

And I imagine the sound and the feeling

Of a coffee bean crushing under my foot

A good omen if you ask me today

___

I often wonder what you’re doing now

Desperately hoping that I’ll reach you

And find that you’re not mad at me

For losing touch

In the first place