flashback

You once told me
it was possible to be scared
to death. (We were in a bar--
salt rimmed glasses, green appled
tongues.) I laughed. I watched
you put on your white coat, watched
as you fingered the buttons into
their holes. We walked home, made tea.
I laid in bed, told you it was true--what
you said in the bar. Told you I was scared;
you asked me what of, I said I didn't know.
You kissed my sea salt lips; I cried in your mouth.