For Jim

"Here I am!" he cries
with arms flung wide as sentences.
A line I can't cross without high-fiving him
except I can't high-five him
with his arms
as thin
as lines.

I tell him he's a good man.
He: "Hell, I'm not a good man - I'm a great man!"
What can I say to that?

I declare he's my best friend.
He: "I don't usually kiss men - but I'll make an exception."
I'd give anything for one full on the lips
but I settle for the cheeks, forehead, and chin.

I thank him for all I've learned.
He: "I'd give you my first born!"
How does that work when I already feel he's adopted me?

I steal his line, "God bless you."
He: "There is a god here! Not THE God - but A god."
His word is law and in that moment
I would follow him down on in to Hell.

I tell him he's a good man.
He: "I'm, I'm a dead man."
What can I say to that?

I swear I'll never forget him
while my grandmother lies dementia-ridden
my grandfather lies buried with it
and I don't know what I've inherited.
He: "I wanna cry for you."
I dry his face
and thank the blindness
hiding mine.