He sends me photos
from the other side of the world
and wants me to be happy for him

Asks me if I can see
how beautiful his new girlfriend is
Tells me he chased her across an ocean

And, isn't that love? He asks
Isn't it some kind of wonderful
the way the world works out?

And I am distancing myself from his words
by anthropomorphizing the globe,
fantasizing that pumping iron will help him attract the moon

When he says I knew better
than to make the same mistakes
I made with you

And I am imagining dear Atlas,
bending his knee beneath the weight of my heart,
muscles straining

And I try not to laugh and cry
at the same time, as a general rule, so
I just say I'm happy for you

Hoping the green salve of gratitude
draws the sting from the wound; renews
my thick skin in time.