Love Poem: Remains and Residue of Love
Angie Mae Avatar
Written by: Angie Mae

Remains and Residue of Love

56 years. 

Now he lives on the 8th floor, 
she lives on the sixth. 

2 floors, 
two buttons, 
and 20 feet away. 


He travels 
by cane. 

Relieved 
they don't make those things 
out of saw-dust, 
she lives 

2 buttons, 
two floors, 
and 20 feet away. 


Too much momentum 
to spin her attempts, 
he waits for her guide downstairs.

Paces in front of the window each day, 
and when she makes her move, 
he hurries down 
-well, he tries- 
so she won’t assemble outside, 
unaccompanied. 

Always wondered what they talked about, 
perhaps the loss of their only daughter 
thirty years ago. 

perhaps not.

That other day 
she sat alone, 
and I thought 

... he may have just had taken a nap... 
and as she rested there waiting, 

she joined him, 
in the only way she could.