appears. Then he descends
down the stairs. He doesn’t come
into view until he’s half-way
into the room. This being a Tuesday

afternoon. This is the day of
my Lent, where I practice abstinence –
a wide-tooth smile for a drink. Behind
doubled doors and two windows

he blinks. I lean in close to the
glass. I wish my head could float so
it would pass between the cracks

and enter in. But so, would the germs
I’m carrying. This is the what I live for
all day, a glimpse, a nod, a smile –
his face.