The excised organ contained the growth. No spread.
Relief snags his breath and in that hiccup of time
he fears the rise of tears not shed since boyhood.
He thanks a deity retrieved after Diagnosis Day.
She stares across the desk at the surgeon
and emotion, long held in, escapes her too.
Before, affection was assumed, the two arrived
and left as one but worked the crowd alone.
Heedless now of peopled space, in months to come
she’ll reach to touch his arm, his cheek, his lips,
mid-sentence, mid-thought, turn back and search
his face, calling for the replay that will reassure.