Have you grown weary of our clandestine
meetings? You seem impatient with all my
weeping. My tears getting mingled with my
drinking. Drops of salt make it taste better
anyway. The grief tastes sweet, begging to stay.
How long will it be? How long will this grief
remain? Tired of waking up sad mourning
in the morning. Would rather smile back at
you, something I’ve forgotten how to do.
Could we forgive us? Could we even try?
With hushed words in secret places in the
dark holes of our home, he waits and spies on
us. We stop our chatter and vow to try
tomorrow. Let our clandestine meetings
last. Let’s be strong. Let’s ruin this sorrow.