A Month Passes, Half of Another
Nurses and interns dodge my questions, tell me
to catch the chief neurologist on rounds. Timing
never right—my job, our toddler—I cannot camp
beside you. I track down the oracle whose words
might save us, find him at his desk, eating
a peach, no white jacket over polo and khakis.
He is astonished I still harbor hope.
Fully clothed, coat and shoes, I lie on the bed
we shared as a swath of sunlight inches
across me, its warmth withdrawing like a blanket
slipping off. A neighbor knocks, the phone rings
and rings, friends urging me to pick up. Eyes shut,
I hear but cannot respond or stir, suspended
like you, darling, between living and not.
- The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Maybe the Body by Asa Drake - April 10, 2026
- The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Maybe the Body by Asa Drake - April 9, 2026
- The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Maybe the Body by Asa Drake - April 8, 2026



