Tonight I pine for my former happiness.
I admit there was pain in all of it too
but I scorn all those tears--they taught me
what gladness is.
There was that afternoon we drove along the coast,
Bill Evans CD the perfect soundtrack,
we are barely talking, so at ease
with the presence of the other.
I don't know what thoughts waft
through his mind but I see his calm, his
contentment marks a faint smile on his face.
All the signs of a man in love with life.
We stop to stroll a path along the bluffs
high above the sand and blue below.
his hands slack in both pockets
and eyes glisten with a deep joy.
We return to the car and I want to make love
right then and there
but he would not risk such exposure,
being a man who holds dignity dear
and so I merely place a finger on his cheek,
on that amazing malar bone handed down
to him by Aztecs--his beauty cut
a wound in me that will not heal.