~ For Mark, one of my first boyfriends, who committed suicide after a long struggle with depression.
I’ll never forget the lobster, it was tradition
long before you ever knew I existed,
my favorite, lobster for my birthday;
as a child I would eat pounds of it,
I think the most was 4 lbs. in one sitting
and that was nothing, never even felt full.
Then one day after work at the seafood market,
fish deep in your pores no matter how many times
you scrubbed those hands, muscular forearms, all up
the elbows, rank fish and you present to me
a simple white bundle under sweet blue eyes,
black brows and curls, softening the sarcasm of any teenage day,
oh the pain you endured for me, you didn’t even like fish , you
liked me, you loved me, to take that job, sporting
a tender smile, each one irresistible, covering a multitude
of sins, each one a moment of mercy, and today you
hand me this plain white paper and I savor each fold,
no, I’ll never forget the lobster.
