If you forget me, wear your hair that way
where the bangs are long and the back is curled against your neck.
Dress up with her for Halloween, after all, she is your wife. And when
I check in on you- it will be the for the latest scores.
You didn’t actually go to Harvard. You work at Wegmans.
You never left that one world. The one I left 14 years ago. But
it is me, with my degrees and my postcards, that still peeks over the fence
at your steadiness, solid and unafraid– I loved you then and now.
How do I know? This, for me, is love: unquenchable inferiority forever.
Poem of the Month 
An interesting poem to ponder…the story line within it is quite interesting…thanks for sharing it.