You had some extra you said. You didn’t
expect as much, to last, and then there was
her. She was more than you hoped to want.
Never saw a man feeling luckier. Something old-
timey about you guys: Em breaking bread
with deans and bards and you baking gold-
en loaves of words like cherish. You flashed
so brightly brief (we’re all fictions) but you
were an essay in pouring out, in toasting
our shares of sentience. Shit, you had gratitude
for cats—their flighty, fitful love reminding us
to rub against what life we’ve got.