I knew it was over
when I didn’t hear him anymore;
tête-à-tête, minus the S shape sofa.
When I could watch a spider eek across
a loveless wall and never say, kill it.
When he became his mother
without the apron or need to cook.
When I became his father
misunderstood and the color of crème.
In the lawyer’s den, emerald
heels finished my look. One last
extravagance, before my barefoot
phase and not minding.
He asked for half of everything,
the Lenox was easy.
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