Here’s another poem for you. Yes, a little grim. Oh well….
What does she see when she looks at me?
Is the image complete and true
Or does it lack detail and definition?
I imagine it’s like an old photo
Once clear and sharp
Now ravaged by time and neglect,
It has faded,
Losing color and clarity
Past splendor lost, irretrievable
Is this faded picture what she sees?
Does she remember the details
That have been altered over time,
So they are no longer obvious
But are still critical to understanding?
Or does she accept the image as true and complete,
Ignoring important parts,
Missing the context and texture of the picture?
I sense it’s the latter that’s true
Now when I’m with her
I feel incomplete and barely seen
An image, not flesh and blood
Familiar but very old
And badly faded
Hard for her to see
Unworthy of her embrace