“Your mood swoops up and down. A zigzagged bat to my twilight
you forage on blood and nectar, then fly home again to roost.
Slowly stealing our sleep and holding our dreams apart, a deity
of doubt covets the forthcoming clamour of kitchen sink drama.
My credence that I love you with a passion she cannot match,
with a depth she cannot reach, with a strength she cannot break,
with a parable she cannot teach, still culminates a feared swansong.
This is an excerpt from a retrospective poem entitled Suspicion. Its about the illicit affair with a married man and his wife’s mistrust and fears that something in their apparent idyllic marriage isn’t all that it should be…..
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