The cards have been all over the table for two weeks now.
We’ve certainly felt their presence as we’ve carefully navigated each other
and have picked up a few, shuffled them, here and there.
The kids have knocked them onto the floor, mixed them up.  A few might be under the couch now.
But the box is lost; there’s no longer a neat way to pack them all away
something must be done with them.
I approached it as I do everything – by writing.

In our younger years
I used to write you letters to explain how I was feeling
rather than take the risk of talking
Now I have said it all
I write to clarify, confirm, document
To stop you from recoiling into denial
To cover my ass
To propel us
forward.

Where? Damned if I know
some space between married and divorced
until another path appears
but we can’t just leave this stuff laying all over the place.
That’s what we always tell the kids.
And we both know
I’m the one
who always picks it up.