Sometimes I wonder
why you stopped loving me
and then I self-reflect
and wonder why I
stopped loving me
too.

Your words were important, but I treasured your feelings more.

I really dont know
How i feel at all, but i
Want to feel loved please.

Each day they invade
Headlines against my small mind
Stories of pure hate

I'm looking for my husband.  He has
disappeared into some place inside
his mind, like a sea creature slides
into a coral bed.

Quick now, here he is for a moment
or an hour.  Like a Robin bobs in
the yard, he is beautiful in his song
before he vanishes into the sky,
flying above or around me.

Are his pieces forever gone? Will
I find a kiss behind my chair meant
for me alone? Will my sorrow erase
the years of love?

I will be brave today.  Tomorrow
I will be the coral he needs. A small
animal in a very large and
strange ocean. .

Caroline Shank
5.4.20

Tell me I am needed,
In your sleep like air.
And not like whispers,
Momentarily there.

Tell me I am seen,
In the orbs of your eyes.
Stare into my face,
Present me no lies.

Tell me I am read,
Between pages of books.
A paragraphs end,
My prologue mistook.

When tired and old,
Lying down in our bed.
Kiss me like I'm young,
And taste what you 've said.

We repent and cry out to a distant God
Then recite apologies to all that hear
Knowing that our regrets are but a façade

Our footsteps are heard throughout the metal rod
Longing and fearing a punishment severe
We repent and cry out to a distant God

Ringing and singing, our voices sounding odd
Fumbling through early laws, trying to adhere
Knowing that our regrets are but a façade

Feeling around, we find the dark firing squad
The purpose of it shall be ever unclear
We repent and cry out to a distant God

Panicking through the grainy darkness we clawed
Seeing nothing but what is in our own sphere
Knowing that our regrets are but a façade

The reality is that we are all flawed
Is our final repentance not insincere?
We hope for our stone hearts to become unthawed
Knowing that our regrets are but a façade

i missed you yesterday
and the day before
and the day before
when i hadn't seen you for a month.
time was a monster gnawing away
at the walls of its cage between my ribs,
its chains rusting and cracking with wear.
the present was a dreamer's life
of sleep and rest and zoning
because how else could i reach my perfect world
of us?
the past was a landmine,
every moment a missed opportunity
for more time with you.
and the future was repeated images
of when it was finally today,
hugging and seeing and knowing and having.

i missed you earlier
more than i ever had before
when i saw you for the first time in a month.
somehow time had freed itself
and i guess it saved our "us, maybe"
for its main course
because by the time i got to you
i could see in your eyes
that we were already gone.