Josephine Tanner

As I looked at Josephine
I saw many things

A pair of big round eyes, bright blue and glazed
Framed with a fan of thick, dark lashes
That are pricked with beads of water
Like melted snowflakes in winter
Oh, your ivory skin, like the paper of a book:
A perfect canvas for your emotions.
Each one so easy to read;
So god damn predictable

I also see a nose, thin and straight
Which hangs like picture frame on a wall
Above a rosy pair of lips
That I love to search for,
Late at night with whiskey misty on my breath
And whiskey misting up the walls in my head
I look for their curve and shape
So feminine, so like a tulips petals
But... They're different
They're pursed
And are squeezed into a thin line
Like the horizon of Josephine's face

In the biting breeze, strands of gold and bronze
Blow like ribbons across Josephine's face.
Their gentle curl emulates the waves of the ocean
In a golden sunset deep in summer,
Like nothing I have ever seen

I think to myself
How beautiful she is

But then I see the turned-down ends of Josephine's mouth
The bitterness that is in both eyes
As tears swell, tidal and salty
And the frown that begins to crease its way
Across your milky skin
Like a sheet in the wind

A tiredness is growing like mildew
Around the edges of Josephine
And like an old tree who has been blown about for too long
She leans, exhausted,
Lacking even enough patience
And willpower to look me in the eye
Caring about dignity no more

And I hear her gentle, calming voice
Now rough and husky, say
"I don't love you
This is exhausting"
And I see

I did this to her