I still write verse for her every day
still put down those words of glowing love
but those scribbled lines are for her eyes only
so they are never seen or read or felt
by any other than me
and perhaps that is my legacy
the house, the goods, and those jotted notes
wherein I speak of love, and bliss, and devotion
and my heart weeps great tears for the one
who taught me the greatest love
and the greatest suffering
and if she wanders in, to see what will be hers
she will see the pictures on the wall
that I cannot take down

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