We shoved our way
into the busy workout room
Metal crashes against metal 
After every rep the football player
grunts and exhales
His muscles struggle to
hold the heavy weight

Your blue wrinkled hanes t­shirt
clings to the beads of sweat
on your back
You squat 90 degrees,

clench the cold bar
and knock out 10 lifts
Your buddy snaps his wrist back,
flings his arm forward and
whips a wet towel at you
It hits you in the face
with a fierce slap
that leaves you
bending over, cradling
your aching red cheek

But I know you are scared...
Scared of sleeping alone on the couch
Scared of having nobody
to rub your cold toes up against at night
or make you scrambled eggs
with two pieces of crunchy bacon

Of having nobody to rest your head on
or to hold hands with
or run your fingers through strands of hair
the smell of Dolce and Gabbana
still lingering
and the sound of an old peeling door
slamming against a crooked door frame.