What I’ll (try to) forgive —
The way you muse over my arrogance, contemplate
my contemptuousness and trivialize my anger.
The way you infuriate me with your naivety.
The way you switched from verse to excuses.
What I’ll (try to) forget —
The Green Monster, which wedged itself between
our slipping mattresses.
The Other Woman, who tainted your
imagination with her vicariousness
My Mulish Insecurities, which leave a trail of
meaningless apologies after every exclamation.
What I’ll remember —
The way you convinced a suicidal man of second chances,
The way you dance in a drunk daze,
The way you sob into my limp arms,
The way it was in the middle of things.