Image

Blinded

Blinded

By your sweet words
And sincere gestures

The movement of that tongue
In a warm place
Carving light
Into dimness

I do not see
The other face your wear
On the weekday

Or feel the same hands
You wife does
On the weeknights

I feel a release
Of strife
In each stroke

An exhale of relief
To finally be home

Your other home

I wonder if you wear other faces
How could you
I have the weekends
Could there be more
Maybe late evenings
Before our nights

An ignorant blind
To opened doors
A full belly
Hot bath water
Expensive purses
And diamonds

A wool cloth
Covers my sight
To those other faces

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