Oh God! How old I have grown
That I no longer part from you with passion,
With pain, with scream of rage and harsh words,
With splintered glass and slammed doors,
With hate and lust.
Oh God! How feeble I have become
That sometimes I do not part from you at all,
But stay when I should go
Fighting indifference, feigning love.
Oh God! How old I have grown, how feeble I have become
That I now part from you with grace
With tranquil dinner for two
Softly murmuring words of sweet sadness
Over the pale glow of a vin ordinare.
With a chaste hug,
And a final, formal handshake.