Just Another Night


It used to bother you
that he stopped
coming to bed
before midnight—
and you knew
what he was doing
down there
without you
and it hurt your
self-esteem more
than your feelings—
and if it only happened
now and then
you might be able
to chalk it up to
a natural fascination
with beauty
and overlook this common
weakness you’re told
that all men share—
but when you wake up
alone at 4 a.m.
and again at 5
when he crawls into bed
smelling like a fire
has been lit to lift him
as high and far away
as he can get,
you begin to wish
he’d stay up there
in the stratosphere
because he’s never
been satisfied
with how earth bound
you are—
or understood why
you prefer to feel
all those things
he tries to simulate
or numb.






“Barracoon” Andrew Wyeth, 1976, Drybrush and Watercolor, from The Helga Pictures

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