For S.

You tell me that she was a breech-birth. I’d
always thought that was worse
        but
            you say
it was easier that way;
didn’t hurt
as much as the first time,
            when your Son was born.

She is two & a half years old.

She’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen,
& I used to fucking detest
        the word “adorable”,
            especially
                if it was ever used
to describe me.

When I tell you this, it makes you laugh:

“You’re not adorable!
Sweet,
        maybe,
but only sometimes, & sweet like
liquorice: a weird,
        acquired taste”.

We’ve stayed awake far too late tonight,
drinking red wine
        & talking
            about our lives.

I once believed we were defined entirely by
the roles we play in a stupid fucking game,
        & that neither the rules
            nor the roles could
ever change but

when you leave me,
        briefly,
to check on the children,
            I realise
that I was wrong:

You’ve changed me completely:
        
I don’t believe
that this is a game any more;
        now,
            I see it as a dream
                waiting

to be realised.

For S.

Dors bien ma belle chérie,
    je t’aime beaucoup.

Sans toi, je ne serais rien…

…sometimes
it feels as if all I can give
to be worthy of your love is
    words
        & sometimes
words are just not enough:

    they cannot convey,
        can’t create,
the tangible texture
    of what it is
that you mean to me.

“I love you”
    or
        “Je t’aime”:

Neither one
    is sufficient,

because what exists between us
    is far beyond the influence
of words.

It’s something I cannot express;
    something
I don’t fully understand, &
        so all I can give you
are these paltry words,
  to demonstrate my belief
that I love you
    & that you love me:

ma foi que je t’aime,
& tu m’aimes
    aussi:

Dors bien ma belle chérie…

For S.

Fading embers still remember the fire,
        & I remember
            soft summer air
& the thought of wildflowers,

when your serene,
        iridescent green eyes
            first smiled at me:

when first I found serenity
        in those rivers of gold,
            cascading down your shoulders…