Maybe it saved us.

A milk's expiration date
My armpits' perspiration rate.
My hungry ghost
on a half-eaten plate.

I showed D. the short video of G.,
incoherently mumbling in his hospice bed
I watch it from time to time and he wanted to know why.

From my throat: Because it reminds me of how much he suffered.
Echoing in my heart: ..and how much I loved him.

It still catches me by surprise.

The love, I found in my reserves, drilled deep down
in that well, poets often speak of.

How much care and time
I could extend to a man
I had fallen out of love with
years before
and because of that
found a new definition of "value"
in me, in him, in us
more precious than two coins
kneaded together to make fire.

Never knowing (do we ever?)
I believe G. was mumbling:
the only thing that could save {him} was a miracle.