Whitewash

I suppose you take that to heart, that page
where it says “attachment unavailable”,
introduced by the question:
how to work with people
whom you don't like.

I would have happily read that and learned
and when it was all over, tell myself
that you wanted to lesson me on how
I have to work with you.

But you know that I like you,
and while you may be skipping lines
because of their font sizes,

I can only smile—
as your skinny friend maybe noticing
as I write this.

You can never make me angry, not today.
Not after the Moon passed Cancer in the twelfth
and has told me that I am still the Lion
that roars loudly in your dreams.

You will walk through that glass door
thinking that I am delusional
and I probably am.

But just as you are all that I see
when I close my eyes in the dark,
you know that I am what you will see
this morning before you sleep,
in your dreams, in the whitewash
of your eyes before you open them

—like every other day.