Part of me has been here

far, far too often for comfort.

Still, in for a penny,

and the worst is a pounding,

then directions for the door.

 

I’m long-married to a woman

I can’t see how to abandon

while the world of pains

she occupies is unhealed.

I think you’d hate me if I did.

 

I want to be free of my pains,

to be partner to a woman

who shares comfort, trust,

care and love in both directions.

You hesitate to say you love me.

 

In between, the no-man’s-land

is confusing, uncartographable,

the sign posts askew and twisted.

Some of the aid stations, abattoirs.

Some of the minefields, safe paths.