Loveless as a Lamb

I wanted her to become
present. Usually

she moved at light

speed. I was left

to wish for her

attention. How

I loved her 

deep blue obligated eyes,

required to fasten onto

all of her

responsibilities, 

everything at once.

I recall her telling me,

"You can put up with anything

for a weekend." A meeting

of people who liked themselves

amid some lofty university chore

where she exceled but preferred

to escape, as I in turn

have learned to do. 

Now I recognize her words,

"If only I could get my energy

back." I, too, notice

the difference, reflect on 

what once seemed infinite:

time and constant

physical and intellectual

strength, now thinning.