Your arm wraps
around her shoulder.
She slips in—wears you
easily and steps in the place
that was our embrace
for eighteen years.
This looks so effortless for you.
Out of breath—
my life crosses the finish line
of a marathon-marriage to this
slow-motion, surreal, stream of pain.
Unsteady on my feet like a nervous bride,
my forevers and until death vows
PS: I do recover.