the days i still recall
as much as any nights;
but men don’t think that way,
so women say
misunderstanding runs
while sympathy still limps,
and yet, it doesn’t have to be
that way
i think that i know well enough
the boundaries and lines
that we must have to shield off
who we are
yet days i still recall,
as much as any nights —
the lunches more than just
the caviar
