my woman in black
decanting denture tablets
into tea stained cups
Telling me the things
Which make her sad
Stains
Spilled sugar
All the things
But I like it
Because everything with her
Is a test or a celebration
I’m a more private man
Because the light of her
Burns away the corrupted need
For attention
And I bask in her light
Even when she’s dressed
In shadows
Yet I remain umoved
Shifted only by will
So I shall sit
Watch her
A little longer
MB Blissett 