i stood over you with a washcloth on your neck
while you puked into the kitchen sink
just to see if i could stand it
and i’m pleased to report that i only dry-heaved once
when we sat on the bathroom floor drenched with
i waited for the judgement call
had i the selfless nature of a mother
to hold onto you through the worst?
i love you because you say things like
“my mistake, you are right” when you’re wrong
and because we laughed when we cleaned up
where does the icky green stench of sick fall
on the scale of love?