She lies on the couch
Face down, asleep.
She is wearing the black evening gown
That she loves so much,
That I find too exposing.

Her hair is slightly shorter now
And the scent of her perfume smells different.
I stare at her
As I feel the fangs of regret
Pierce me.

Today, of all days
I got called out.
On our anniversary
I worked…
I was not with you.

I move towards her,
Not wanting to wake her,
Not wanting an argument.
I am tired and filled
With despair.

I look down at her,
And the shock shatters
My strength.
I am weakened and distraught,
By the sight of those marks.

I gently move her hair
Away from her neck
To inspect those marks.
Love bites,
Almost covering her neck.

Have I neglected you?
Have I driven you to someone else?
I am shaking and sweating,
As the volcano of dementia
Begins to stir within.

I step back, away from her
And sit down
While I close my eyes
And curse myself
For driving her to someone else.

I bury my face
In my hands
As I realise that I caused this,
I am the one to blame,
I did not fulfill your needs.

A warm hand gently touches
My shoulder,
Startled by the gentleness,
I raise my head,
All I see is her sleeping form.

I look up at the hand
That breathes comfort
Into my depleted spirit.
I look up at the face
That oozes with love.

Your encouraging smile
And expression that is about to
Burst into laughter
Causes me to breath again,
You, my love, next to me?

“I loaned my sister the dress”
You barely get the words across
As you burst into laughter
And your eyes become
The focal point of my attention.

I could feel it now
That you will never be disloyal to me.
It’s in your eyes,
In your touch
And I begin to smile, relieved
In this reassuring bliss.