by Dan Flore
Dan has appeared in Enthalpy several times. His background in mental health (he teaches poetry workshops to people with mental illness) is folded into his work.
I told her I couldn't talk
I needed sleep
the day had raked its fingers across my eyes
earlier she had learned it was over
and all I could see then was the memory of her bouncing young laugh
and strawberry cheeks
and I sunk into the earth
I became mud and stone
the next day
I could tell she had taken great care
in getting ready to see me
hair straightened,
blush and
green summer dress
as though nothing had died
but what made me tremble most
was seeing her sweaty fingers tightly squeezing
the tiny cross dangling from her chest
as she said give me one more chance
