We sat at my table late at night
talking about your other lover
your assessment of where you are in his heart.
I cried a little for your thought that his priorities had shifted
that the events of life had moved him away a bit.
I didn’t cry because of me
because I inexplicably find myself not jealous, not hurt
but hurting for your ache for him.
Crying, it’s what I do these days.
Joy, grief, it’s all mixed together.
I cried also because sitting with you
in the candlelight talking about another man in your life
brings me such joy that my heart overflows.
If you had told me this even three months ago I would have laughed.
I hope you know that whatever is happening with anyone else
you are now a fixture in my heart.
Your smile is an arch leading into another room of the heart
Unknown before this moment.
Whenever you meet my gaze that door opens and floods come out.
Life is amazing.
I want to be able to say equally: joy, it’s what I do.
Smiling at you, it’s what I do. Touching your face with my palm
it’s what I do.