For Robbie, Who Lost an Arm
you used to lay your arm
amidst The Evil Dead, theater dates,
and everything Nicholas Sparks.
you used to catch one-handed high school
wide-receiver. your knotted spear of elbow
thrust into my stomach mid-moshpit.
we wrestled in sixth-grade and your half a foot difference
pinned me to the sheets. your hand misspelled
university essays, fingers forgetting grammar.
i can still see your old muscle, that sinew taut
under athletic arm. i can still see it mirrored from the other
and i forget the metal thinness and how it
connects to your shoulder. i forget the pictures
of recovery. i don’t even know who we are anymore,
and more than just an appendage has lost its life, its function.