All my reasons

He left wearing his game face
past adobe archways
mid-century balconies
threatening to pour down
on his sore head
passing a row of casement windows
shaking off yesterday
and all my reasons

I insulated my boudoir
my heriot paid in full
a coat of arms on every wall
with something to prove
but my vassalage is for life
all the dried flowers littering
the base of hoary shrines
are no proof that my heart
is on his sleeve

He replied to my missive with sadness, papers
clearly wet first, then dried
still unsure how to tell him
that I am enclave’d here
where melancholy is indigenous
but I stay, I stay and no predator
will yank me thus, so long as
this undeserved forest
shelters me

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