Sweet touches like wine
but without the lush sway
in the dark.
Married life does not agree with me
I want to say, but the glow betrays me.
Backed speechless against a wall,
I bawl like a child
at the smallest thing--a song
we hear on the highway,
returning home along a road
once part of my journey toward you.
A shiver, a touch, the weight
of heat upon me in the middle of the day
for the other shoe to drop--
but there is no shoe.
I bring you tulips and leave them
on our table, thoroughly surprised
at the lack of misery,
which follows me throughout the day,
singing its song
throughout the day,