It surprises me how quickly I can conjure
You before me, more familiar to myself
Than my own mirrored face. You sit

We touch each other’s arms often
To console ourselves. We repeat
The dialogue that we memorize.

Bed warming, I lie open and exact
As a needle preparing to suture.

I am everyone’s receptacle of secrets.
Hallow as a gilded reliquary,
I hold each lie and confession.

It is cold but I know how to be
Even colder. I have had centuries 
Of practice. Listen to me: I have