He just wasn’t my lover
He lay his eyes on me,
and then his body.
He wasn’t my lover,
but I played the part.
He left as he is a winner,
I put his tie he forgot
in a garbage can outside.
What the fuck happened?
The next two years he kept coming back.
Like a wet leaf that stuck to the butt,
from the broom made of an oak branches
we use in a Russian bath for platza.
I grew to love him.
I didn’t know any different.
We married, bought a house,
Had a cat, a few stepsons between us.
I completely lost myself
in someone’s life, goals, ideals.
I would fall asleep pressed into his underarm
merging, and suffocating.
It took almost two decades
to free myself from his attachment,
mine too, don’t get me wrong,
I am not blaming. We learn as we go.
I am just trying to make sense
of that evening, two decades ago,
when I kept the smile,
instead of slapping his face.
You know that unnatural smile!
You adapted it to keep you safe.
You do not want to cause any troubles,
You don’t like to make waves.
Well, I raised many waves since then.
You can’t keep apologetic smile forever.
One day you take the spear
and become a warrior.
Those who used to your smile
have to face their own shadows,
though they will accuse you
of every wrongdoing. Do not listen.
They did not live your bondage,
and they do not know your freedom.
Just leave them behind
to their own demons.
I gave him myself.
He gave me his version of life.
Somehow it worked for almost two decades.
He just wasn’t my lover.
