LGBTQ+ Poem: Before/After, by Vincent Myers

As I trim my beard, the way I always did, a tear comes to my eye.
I wash hair down the drain, but memories remain.
One thing is still the same.
I’ll continue to trim my beard.
But it won’t be with you.
I’m at peace with that.

I haven’t seen you in over two years.
What will you look like?
How will I feel?
Even though questions endure.
The hair goes down the drain.
Memories remain.

I dreamt of you.
And thought of you.
I wrote about you.
I came anew.

Conversation and pleasantries.
Then emotion.
Sick family members and hard times.

I met your new somebody.
I saw your dog.
He looked like ours.
You said that was intentional.

I floated through the museum like a ghost.
A museum I typically love.
Mind was elsewhere.
Body disconnected.

I held back tears on the C train.
A few fell on the way.
Back at the apartment.
I could barely see.
It felt good to release what had been damned.