The Email Finds Me

before I find myself,

alone at the party

alone at the grocery store

alone at the restaurant table

party of one party of someone

waiting for me at home but

that someone is the email

finding me naked after a shower

and not in that sexy way you

might find me after a shower

in that not sexy way

where my body is still too wet

for my clothes and I must

fight physics to encase myself

like a sausage into a sweat suit

that will hold me for a moment

but not the way the email does

when it finds me even more

broken in front of a mirror

doing things that will bring judgement

from everyone but of course

not the email, who wants only

to find me shivering in a forest

crouching over the body

of a recently decapitated lover

the email wants me to know

it will be alright, that it will be

more than alright

that eventually I will

stop running and tell

the email all that it wanted

to know that yes,

I am well and yes

per my last email

I am still breathing.