Carved in Stone

Our names would be carved in stone, I said.
What am I doing.
What am I throwing away.
You cannot discard a tombstone.

I remember the sun of that day.
I watched you sleep on my mattress
as I wrote the letter telling you what
you did not want to hear.
Darling I love you but if I stay
one of us will die.

No man loved me no man will love me
as you have loved me
these seven years.
You do not label me as whore
even in the brutal whore face
of this, my mad mutable heart
crying for something more tangible.
Last night I cried thinking of another man
lost to me for the rest of my life
and you reached for my hand.
Christ. Christ. Christ.

What do I do
with this bounty.