Your silent indifference to my unhappiness
Causes meloncholy vapors to freeze
On the tear tracks of my cheeks.
The over-exposure to your bitterness
is like the December wind, harsh;
Whipping and chapping my delicate skin.
These trying times bring me back
to our first year together:
Quietly spent in a warm embrace,
Dancing by the fire,
Or wrapped up in blankets, crocheted by our mothers.
We had everything then:
and the knowing love of each of us
Reciprocated and personified in every word.
You were so masculine in your beauty,
Physical and mental,
So strong and passionate.
I always considered myself the weaker vessel,
delicate, and afraid of being hurt by everyone but you.
Who would have thought my fear would turn on me?
It would leave me cold in winter
And no longer shaded by your love in the intense heat of June.
I saw you recently,
Walking alone by the river.
A quiet hurt etched behind your eyes,
Your hollowness hitting me to my core.
You didn't see me,
But it took the will of my entire lifetime
To not run to you,
Put my blushing kisses on your eyelids,
And offer back my love
That you so quietly kept shut off in your
Lockbox of emotions.
It was then that I saw them:
Your wife, a daughter, two sons.
They all have your eyes,
etched with hurt and pain and a quiet despair,
That I now know has nothing to do with me.