You whistle at me, here witnessed for the
first time in 589 days. I stop.

You stare. You smile. Your warm eyes still
sicken me. My old friend.

Tell me you miss me, see surprise at such sorrow,
but, still, do not touch my skin.

It's brief; I have to go. You linger and I walk away.

Welcome home, food on the table, a smile a little hesitant,
you're angry I am late.

A message reveals itself unwelcome. I respond, bleak
unrepentant work. I love him, not you.

This time, he does not write back.

Vindictive, I want to add
you were just a lesson
never to be repeated.