...

Looking back at your stoop.
Sunny and 40 degrees, a warm December morning
I wouldn’t have guessed that would be the last time I saw you

From my California hotel bed to your Chicago ceilings
Sounds of ending falling off your lips onto the receiver
6 weeks felt too short
It didn’t feel like enough

I spent the morning chanting with ease
“I am enough”
“I am enough”
“I am enough”
By evening
I didn’t even know those words existed