You sit bundled and layered
despite the summer heat,
the heavy blanket
covering you,
chilled and addled
by chemo,
dozing off, head slumped
on your chest, waiting
to feel better, to have
enough energy, enough breath
to climb a flight of stairs.
And I sit, sweating, and watching you,
wondering what food I should order
from Applebee’s
to celebrate our anniversary,
which likely will be
our last together.