he still comes to visit
always bringing offerings
entering the front door
breathing in the scent of my stairwell
ascending
he looks around my living room
smiling at a friend
and then begins
the ritual unpacking

one by one
he places on the countertop
lilikoi (I’d said I liked them)
lemons (I’d said I needed them)
avocados
three ripe bananas
ginger root
turmeric
a handful of freshly picked allspice leaves (he has one in his shirt pocket)
and a glass jar filled
with his latest brew of noni juice

a natural exchange
I serve
salad with cucumber and pumpkin seeds
mist
the air with rose water
thread
a chunk of jasper for his neck

and when we say goodbye
I’m saying
thank you
practicing the present
pretending
(though it could be real)
that we may never meet again