The Note in Your Shoes
The wedding venue burnt without flame
the moment we stepped in.
You and I, hand in hand, step by step—
we laughed till our facials started aching,
we danced until the floor grew tired.
That was the story of our first day in love.
Twenty five years after marriage~
we now hardly speak,
our children hardly know us.
We rise too early, return too late,
stealing only minutes for
good morning
and how was your night,
before the routine begins again.
Nannies cradle our children in their arms—
they bathe them, clothe them,
and sing them lullabies meant to be sung by us.
Last night I saw your first gray strand,
glinting as you hurried into your car.
I smiled—you’ve joined
my five-year-old company of grays.
Darling,
how many more years
will we remain strangers tied by rings?
When will our children truly be ours?
Forgive me for leaving this note in your shoes,
but I wanted you to find it
before leaving for work this morning.
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