Eight Hour Shifts

I know you don’t smile
for days,
weeks,
when I’m not here
not here to sing you
Frank Sinatra songs
and
sugar sugar how ya
get so fly
not here to spin you around
(even in a wheelchair,
you dance beautifully
and I never won’t tell you this)
you ask me
when you can leave
I tell you
“soon”
and leave the room
holding back tears
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