the friend

he’s visiting.

he’s talking.

he’s sipping coffee.

(the best. Gëvalia dark roast)

he’s telling a story

of which I have no connection

but I’m listening.

he says he’s dying;

an internal issue which

can not be resolved.

suddenly his skin is anemic 

suddenly his voice

is granular and his eyes

blanch the streaming sunlight

darkening the room.

he’s pushed himself

a thousand miles into

a foreign distance,

this stranger before me.

I've never known him to be dying.

I ask if he wants

a second cup.

he says no.

I pour myself another

this time to the brim.

it has to last the balance

of a lifetime.