"love you" he said
over wires stretched under the Atlantic
[on 10 cent Sunday to Germany
and most of Western Europe]
the slip --
he was somewhere absently offering farewell to
his wife/dad/son --
nonetheless stuffed the pause
with awkwardness.
"I know" I sent - smirk almost visible
to relieve the moment.
then quick --
"I'll have Kan call Tammy next week"
"yeah - later"
still savoring my best-friend's embarrassment
(wondering if he would tell his wife)
(I just told Mark I loved him)
(what, is he dying?)
I was warmed
that I had fit, even if by accident
into that inmost list --
the feeling reciprocated
if never said
and covered by mirth.
**
I don't remember when I wrote this poem exactly - probably 2004 or so. It was based on a real moment.
