I shouldn’t be writing a poem to you.
But when I think of you, when I do,
It is in idiom that cannot be spoken,
Lest it suggest there’s something broken.
We share what we can to sustain our affection;
Ignoring the discomforts of stray recollection.
We fought for a love that habit sustained
And turned away when all promise was drained.
Now we have others with whom we measure
The habits and manners that gave us pleasure.
And that we are happy is not admitted.
Lest it suggest we dwelled when we should have quitted.
I shouldn’t be writing a poem to you,
Poems are for lovers. But I do
Think of you in terms I cannot speak:
Of the life we gave up and the lives we will keep.
-MSG
