I bled at your doorstep
Your wife had answered the door
I looked at her face
and stared at the brown pools
you had so often talked about.
Her mouth her bare leg
reminiscent of your accounts of her.

The last summer I spent with you,
talking and breathing in
the heady scent of the mango blossoms,
we spoke of joy and separation
in one breath.
I remember touching your light
nicotine stained fingers
and feeling just that.
Joy and separation.

Idly wondering what the creature
you were marrying was like
I would ply you with questions
So that soon it became
a pressing urge for me,
and soon I had an entire
mental dossier on her.

She was the stranger
I intimately knew.

As the years rolled by
you grew on me
like an idea I was infected with.
I became an editor (yay)
of a thoroughbred journal
had an offhand affair or two
but you continued to breed within

Until one day I knew
I had to see you
Platonically of course
or so I thought

One look at your home
one glimpse of your wife
and I was robbed of any such notion.
My palms got clammy cold
I bit my tongue
and tasted warm salty blood
The day closed in upon me.

I ran for dear life.
Goodbye dear lover
you are too much of a storm for me.