A poem by my bride, Janelle McCurry, on my rest day, in response to “This Woman.” 

This man

This man sleeps next to me,

and I can’t remember the last time

I asked about his passions,

or thought of him as something
more than 

a friend with benefits, my husband

The extraordinary veiled in ordinary

I turn my thoughts

If I had it my way, I’d have lost my way.
Giving into things unworthy
Thank God I’m not in control

His heart would be torn to two,
devastated by a reckless woman

I turn my thoughts

Sleeping next to the son of the King 

I forget who This Man is 

My Man. His son 

Not That man, hers, or yours
And if you know the story
you’d understand the difference
between the one and the other-
a gift beautifully wrapped,
or a pearl not for me to discover 
This man sleeps next to me

And I wonder, what kind of woman
will I be 

when he wakes