Perpetual partner in the back seat
countless car rides to Mass
the car would honk for you
at four forty exactly
echo through the house
as we wait not-so-patiently
for you, we never
left without you.
Elbows touching, kneeled in pews
your unexpected shove awake me from
prayer, our territorial war begins
Sliding on the worn wood
it took all my might to lay
my hands heel to heel, wrist to elbow flat, resisting.
A reprimanding glance ends
that battle, until next week.
We haven’t gone to mass together
since Easter last year, our hands then
occupied by more significant others we had
found. I left at three-twenty that day
before you even sat down for