an unrehearsed universe

Defection

I held in you in my arms all the while tears of salt and anguish
         splashed the hollow of my neck
the sniffled snuffling of your rending misery caused by her defection

almost – but not quite – an insupportable obligation that I bore by
         offering comfort and platitudes in equal measure
to soothe the sting of your heartbreak, murmuring soft words of lavish praise
to banish the memory of that rejection –

and how much more final does moving across the country get,
         even if it was not solely
(or mostly) you that prompted the decision –

with my wholehearted acceptance, which made you laugh wryly
         in between the tears, profusely apologizing for the quirk of fate
that brought us to the point whereby

your inadequacies and my insecurities
         as I worked myself to the depressive quick with the minutiae of wifely duties
without the benefit of a ring

had driven you straight into her arms
         on my couch, on my floor, on my bed even,
though that you deny –

and fairly spoken can I even complain when it is your money
         that pays the rent, your family heirlooms and college castoffs
that decorate the apartment, and the only things truly mine fit in two suitcases:
         some odds and ends, pots and pans, clothes and bedding –

and now her leaving,
         first abroad to an uncertain reception and then back home
to lick the wounds inflicted by
our rediscovered happiness
and the cruel mistress that is our city,

had left you once again only with me
         so you tell me that you love me,
the quaver in your voice probably sincere, although perhaps you think

I miss the way your eyes now track another one of my friends
         (and yours too, now, I suppose)
whenever she leaves and enters a room or
your unnecessary, overly solicitous concern for her well-being

I am not so big a person as all that
         I was unable to resist a dig or five
at your expense which you stomached
with ill-concealed discomfiture and poor grace –

but you were smart enough to take them
         knowing that anything I inflict on you is payment
for what you have done to me continuously, deliberately, many times over,
for the last six or seven years –

I held you in my arms, all the while biting back
         tears of salt and anguish
not foolish or desperate enough to gift you with them.