You Have Brought So Much To This Marriage, And So Have I (Love Poem)
Never just some walk to the pools or to where
by Doren Robbins
the petals burst. You know how I wrote
to you once: protect the body within the body
of little blood-contained blossoms
I feared was torn-up
in your life away from me?
I could've written that to myself only,
and probably settled for the worst.
For me the way was always intricate,
hard, never transparent. About that,
soon after we met, you said, 'I know...'
And I'm repeating this, my usual
redundancy, or is it your
absent-mindedness I respond to?
since for three days I've been
silently blamed for leaving unsaid or not
warning about in some way
or soon enough what I've already
mentioned here. It has been remnants
of clarity, fragments of precision.
I too want things uncluttered,
stripped down, bare in the sense
that any detail resisted
is a set-back.
And don't think I don't know
I haven't been able to
remove a lot of the nettles
from what I'm deprived
of seeing, necessarily, without you.
And what do I see?
Not that much. And then
we don't know if I do see more
if it'll be an improvement.