Each day, new lessons, from
a hard master. Too long I’ve been
dumb and deaf and numb. Now his
fingers, lips, tongue, articulate
my body’s Braille alchemy. These
secrets, easiest revealed, transmute,
lift and open. I learn to hold my
breath, to breathe, to catch his
breath’s rhythm, to match gasps
and clutch with his final shudder.
With patient repetitions he reminds
me, teaches the long slow essential:
not letting go, never having to hold.