The Doubter

Here you are with me again
my shadow companion,
my iron clad lover I can't undress.
I've been seducing you for years,
but even with the cleverest words
and the most desperate charm
you're always cold and unreachable.
You back away when I come near.
When I turn to leave you follow,
wrapped in a thick cloud,
a mystery within a mystery.

How can I love you?
There's no communication here.
Sometimes I see your lips trembling,
but what's the message quivering in your granite throat?
"I love you? I need you? I'm sorry? It's over."
I can't tell.
Your face is a finished sculpture.
Your eyes are staring stones.

I've married a woman I didn't want
but have courted all my life.
I've wooed you with wildflowers.
I've whispered honeyed words
while my fingers shouted passion on your skin.
But how long can I wait for a smile?
And how long can you stare without seeing me?
If I put my ear to your chest what would I hear?
The wind hissing in a broken shell?
The sputtering of an old pump?

What will end this bloodless marriage?
Desertion, death, an affair?
No, I'll tell you.
Someday when you least expect
I'll turn around in mock rage
and cast off this heavy despair
with a jeering laugh.
Then I'll enter your cloud,
take your steely limbs in mine
and let my tears rust away your fear.
And I won't let you go
until you say, "I love you."


—Eric Nelson