Circadian Poems

A place to celebrate poetry, poets, and the creative spirit.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Our Marriage

Our Marriage
By Helen Grace Bellows

We did not have the ceremony,
We did not exchange the rings,
But we were married in our hearts
(or so I thought).
I smiled every time I heard you refer to me as
"My wife" or "the wife."
It was as precious as every utterance
of "Honey" and "darling"
and those private names you had for me that no one else will ever hear
(how many other women have heard you use those names?)
The quiet dinners, when we smiled and kissed across the table;
Snuggling beside you in the back of a black taxi in a moment of bliss;
Sitting together watching TV or reading;
The drinks; the laughter; the caresses; the nights of passion and
The plans; the promises;
(How could you keep up the charade for so long?)
All the daily details that constitute building a life together.
I loved and I believed we had forever.
We didn't.
At least we don't have the pain and the money
of divorce papers. Or prenuptials.
We could part, not as friends,
but as humans.
We go our separate ways now,
But a part of me has changed forever.

Helen Grace Bellows prefers traveling to putting down roots.


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