Letters

It was great for a time

Sex and wine

Wine and sex

Then commitment and open and shut curtains.

The special delivery of child made the bond complete

Six months down the line

Breastfeeding was an action watched from a distance

Intimacy was a tired look

The neighbour's cat looked hot

Killed the lonely nights

Killed the commitment outright

Got to know the lawyer through rapid bank withdrawals

Weekly child visit watched over by Brutus

Bar visits watched over by the world's condemned

Special occasion became a twice-yearly treat

Birthday and Christmas, a bit of hate thrown sideways.

Then the new man.

Felt good for her.

Maybe some pressure off.

Maybe missed that lobotomy bar lecture.

Years dragged the hate forward.

Time moved on.

One day I wrote her a letter expressing my anger.

She wrote back in triplicate.

I wrote back in double triplicate.

She sent a thesis on men and asses.

Suddenly, without thinking, we had dialogue.

After a while, we moved on from the anger.

We became human again.

I actually liked writing her letters and receiving them.

We never got back together.

But the letters kept us close.

Sometimes there would be a kiss at the end.

The little bit of love I probably never deserved.

I would mention it to her in my next letter.

Even an ass deserves a solitary kiss now and again.

The bar room lawyers would probably agree.