Found a moody scribble from the past, which I remember was written in the window seat of a bar with low lighting, oh yes. If nothing else, seeing past writing helps us to know how we have (hopefully) matured.
While you were divorced,
I became your lover.
It was right that you revisit
your daughters’ earnest mother.
It’s right that they covet
your arms your beard your fatherhood.
It is beautiful. It is royal.
But it will crash again. It will crash again.
The breaks will break again
The emergency will emerge again.
what will I do?
Will I run away,
or run to you?
Ride with my warm plush safety belt,
or make my own break,
and share your ICU?