I am neglecting my duties, spending my office time praying
to a God that everyone tells me is dead
or never was
Prayer
increasingly feels like avoidance
a scam
that segue’s into mere daydreaming about Tiffany, my secret
schizophrenic lover, my patient
whose allure has made me forsake my professional ethics
though she is no longer beautiful
She is ravaged
though that itself is a form of beauty
Europe is full of it

Her escape had not been dramatic
no dynamite or helicopters
no tunneling underground
or the clever use of a dummy in the bed
No high walls or barbed wire fences to climb
no guards to avoid—there was nothing
to stop a patient from going once she decided to go
The goal for which Tiffany and I had worked so hard together
discharge, release
was so easily accomplished
by simply walking away