Gregory sitting in his wheelchair
Me sitting next to him on a stool
He leans in towards me
I lean in towards him
He leans in closer to me
I lean in closer yet to him
Our foreheads touch
He usually says, "Boink."
This time he said, "I love you!"
Without a prompt from me
My heart soared as high as heavens
Joy carried beautifully, fragilely
on the broad shoulders of grief.
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