Scorching my tongue as I sip,

with you in a not-so romantic grip.

The burn awakens, brings tears to my eyes -

echoing in my head, “How time flies!”

I remember quite clearly how it was then,

when you swept me off my feet, again and again.

Glamor! Travel! Never-ending wonder!

Absence did make the heart grow fonder.

Craning my neck to glance outside,

this restaurant window, with you by my side.

People passing, running, rushing,

umbrellas unfold, as the rain starts pouring.

Perhaps life has more to offer than this,

the continuing saga of marital bliss.

A glimpse of a future, what might have been,

anxiety attacks, deep from within.

I wonder in silence

what life could be,

had it been different,

had you been he.


Donato R. Vytiaco

03 June 2000 @ 9:55pm

(Written in “her” point of view, in case you didn’t get it.)



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