Something happened there.
It’s all a blur.
Hearts dived in,
hearts drowned:
him and her,
father and son,
around and around
and around.
I forgive you, dad.
Forgive me, love.
I was weak.
So was dad.
As below, so above.
Something happened there,
something yet
to come.
It’s not like it was before.
Now it’s tenderness and empathy
after sex I know I won’t return to.
No longer is it larrikin.
It was almost ferocious. It was mountains
in winter,
and the fog was light in the morning.
But the heart just has no place for her.
I’ll not be laughing about it
with my boys.
I won’t be proud at her expense.
There hasn’t been a win,
only tenderness
and empathy.
I’ll text her. I’ll wish her well for the week.
I’ll share that link. She’s me
in female form.
She’s trying her best.
So am I. I hope she feels that.
There is nothing a woman
desires from you more
than a wedding day,
and nothing that is sure
to nauseate her more
than being married to you.
Good luck.
Back again to say goodbye
to pantomimes I’d called my life.
I’d faked it well; I’d faked it sweet.
I’d had the girls and taken treats.
Indeed, it’s changed; I’m more alone.
I’ve all the reasons, now, to doubt.
And yet my spine feels strong as stone
and yet I’m light as cloud.
Perhaps it’s how the soul atones
and how we work shit out.
