he carries a picture of his sister
in his wallet, shows it off to the elderly folks
he drives to the grocery store.
he thinks “reckless” means
forgetting to unplug the percolator
before he leaves for work. he takes
turns at reasonable speeds and
always calls me before he leaves.
he keeps track of the foods
i say i don’t like, he memorizes
the way i like my coffee and
the flavor of gum i keep in my purse.
he teaches me the recipe for his mother’s
homemade apple cobbler.
he doesn’t push when i say
i don’t want to talk about it.
he gets me a blanket and lets me
pick the movie.
when the alarm goes off
in the morning, he rolls over
and hugs me tighter.