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KITCHEN KISSES KINDLED

Why
Sigh I
What did I ever do, 
to you?
The “you” as in the one who held me as softly as any cushion ever fashioned
The “you” as in the you who had me so thrillingly and thoroughly impassioned
The “you” who said you would be my “you” until the sky poured blackened rain
The “you” who swore that you would weave a way to wish away my every pain
The “you” who swished on by me at the oven in the kitchen where we kissed
The “you” who assured me that upon our happiness God himself would insist
The “you” who fancied that split-level yellow house at the end of a dead end street
A cull de sac where our children, a fantasy and a fairy would so heavenly meet
A home we would create with visions of childhood and youthfulness born anew
But why,
sigh I
what did I ever do
to you?
Because you see
With naked certainty I know what you did to me
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