We talk
and there remains
a tension, friction
of what we
once meant
to each other.
More in common
now than then –

We share
two children,
four grandchildren –
a silver chain of being
links us still –
Regrets obvious
as we talk
while
the children watch –
shocked by the lack of
argument.

Did we really hate
each other so much? Or,
was it more about
how deeply
we hated ourselves?

Oil and water
from two different worlds –
Shared stubbornness
our greatest commonality.

Married once, in love
with the idea of
each other — the cold reality,
that we were just children
haunts me still.

We’re growing older
and it is easier
to talk about
what we never were,
things we tried to be,
all we had to kill.
That mutual cold death
of ending
that set us free.

~written February 2011

Photo Credit: Broken Love by analil.deviantart.com