Shifting intimacies

After all these years,

I’m showering with my wife

again.

The washing away of sweat and sleep.

Every morning

cleansing her body.

The running of water

and sunlight in the room.

The pain in her back grew

and the doctor said

“It’s just arthritis.”

She coughed and an x-ray

showed the white, white spots.

And then they all knew.

Her spine cracked and they all knew

there was nothing

but waiting and loving and pain and goodbyes.

The heat of breath released in night air.

After all these years, the shower

pounding rhythmically against two bodies

again.