the simple truth is that the jealousy
i feel is no more than my reaction to
my intentions - they have never been
good, always hidden, never let out - i
fear them more than i fear my love
his actions, folly: mine calculating
cold - unaccountable - forgiveness
easily given him - acceptance a bit
more challenging yet he's up to par
and i am left with nothing to fight
but a jealousy - not of woman and
man but of freedom & possibilities
i write this poem not to escape but to face the truth of my jealousy
i am little more than a child who wants the happily ever after without the ever
yet at forty one - i am now aware
