I could listen to you endlessly as long as you’re willing to keep speaking it out.
I could be one who’s there while you’re there.
Afterward, I could reflect on what you told me: “that’s just one piece of your gratitude.”
And I could feel the way in which you were right.
And hold it in my palm — the piece you so delicately placed there.
And then hide it, away from the light, until the next time.