I was eating Cheetos,
so if I looked surprised
when you asked me
if you were doing the
right thing when you agreed
to meet your ex-boyfriend
for lunch (he was ten
minutes late and anyway
he had cheated on you
throughout your long
relationship), if I looked
surprised, it was only
because it is very difficult
to give a wise and profound
answer when one has
orange crumbly cheese stuff
stuck between your teeth,
and guys like me
who write poems are
always looking for
wise and profound answers
to questions like that.
I still don’t have an answer.
I know only this:
the sunlight through the window
wrapped your sadness in a glow,
and your smile,
brief though it might have been,
showed me your heart:
a book with a damaged cover,
asking someone to turn the first page.
