She Loved Herself More

Years ago in winter

There by the fire

It was time to say goodbye to the man once thought a miracle

Then fool’s gold

He wrote her poetry while

She wrote their last chapter in her head

He stoked the fire with hope that

She would choose him over herself

Sipping tea, she studied him

And the dyslexic poems he had struggled to pen

Although beautiful enough to make her heart stop

She fed them to the fire along with his love you’s and pitch for an open relationship

He came undone, begged, wanted his way

Beneath a stone will, her heart wept

 

Freedom was her playground too

Except it had roots in commitment

If she did it his way, maybe he would come to hers in the end

She sipped more tea and studied him again,

Wandering around inside his mind,

And felt calm understanding blanket them both

 

He grinned, gave a boyish shrug, wanderlust shadowing those honey-brown eyes

And she heard a call to prayer, heard a call to simplicity

She preferred her own stories to his, and

loved herself more than his possibilities

She glanced at him like artwork she admired but wasn’t going to buy

Nothing’s wrong with you, nothing’s wrong with me, she said finally

We are just two pieces from different puzzles and even a romantic knows when to run

More love you’s, more poetry from him, and

She melted into his sun again the way she had a hundred times

Almost

Suddenly, he favored a salesperson who tried to hawk a house

she’d be paying for the rest of her life

She wrote a two-word poem for him: No thanks

Then since he liked open doors, she opened hers and let him go