Very Long Goodbyes

I forgot
what it feels like
not to have tears in my eyes.

We’ve been waving our handkerchiefs
out the windows
of opposite trains
for two years now,
and it looks like
we’re finally departing
the station.

I’ve been
slowly sawing off my own leg,
unable to move
or feel anything good,
and finally
it seems
you've dropped the ax
down for me.
So I cry
and I cry
and I cry.

But you’re going now
so I won’t cry for long.
Just until I can’t see you.
Just until you’re on the other side
of the nursery wall.
Please wait long enough
for me to forget
that I need you
to live.
Please wait long enough
for the flash of color
from a bird landing
on the windowsill
to distract me.
Then
you can sneak away,
quietly.
You can wipe the blood
from your axe.
You can close up
the train window
and say goodbye.