My love for you chastens me, bitter now,
Acid at my heart, an eroding flood, like bile.
You have shut me away, like Jane Eyre's wife. How
did she burn? Was the heat a trial?
The hands that caress you are not just mine.
Tears drop to your skin from another's eyes.
In soft dreams of your body next to her- I find
my tepid wish for happiness denied.
Jealousy strips the leaves from a green branch
that lacerates like a whip leaves pain.
In my heart I cherish you with faith so staunch.
Still I wish you the pleasures of life. Still. Remain.
Will I share you with other wives in heaven?
Will you leave me, then, rejected and forsaken?
No comments:
Post a Comment