A flood of news in the feed. One friend married,
she to her longtime partner, diamond bands
and announcements. And your missive,
about the way messages between you and your love
alternate black and red on the kitchen typewriter.
My heart alternates red and black, too.
Again, I thought I just may not make it.
I may not be able to outlast this loneliness.
Yesterday, I got a reiki treatment at the nunnery.
Before we began, one woman covered my eyes
with white tissue paper. Then two women,
Nancy and Peg, laid their four hands
on me. They could not see, but underneath
the mask, I was crying. One wet long tear,
a fifty-minute tear. It seemed like
every cell was speaking to me, was deciding,
was urging on that part that’s about to give up.
Hold on, Jean, myself told me. Hold on.