_       _She hated loving to be with me, I with her.
I had angina, cancer of the testicles.
Staggered against my pulse to their own odd beat,
spasms in my left ear drum lasted three or four
days at a time. As they’d slacken, I’d count how many
breaths I could steal before the next one popped.
She let me tap them out on the back of her hand.
I couldn’t get them right. My finger was late.
I had to keep saying
_       _“No, not then”
and, still alone with them, start over, thinking we were
both crazy, how could it matter and could she maybe
hear them with her ear against my ear?