The Difficulty

The mind leaks from my face as tears.

I am not crying because you left

but because you are no longer enough.

In the past, a door within me swung open

and since then it has refused to close.

Loneliness is a cold wind passing through me

an hour after you promised to call me.

It is as if my irises were made from tears

the way they wobble in my head. I close

my eyes tightly to keep them still. Left

alone to step out from the airport into the open

air, the extent of your absence is enough

to make me forget how it is not enough

to know you will never stop loving me.

Even if you knew my secret you would open

those arms to hold me, ready tears

springing from your eyes. I would be left

speechless, humbled, and moved to close

my hands over your hair, pull you close

to me, as if it were everything and enough:

this brief amnesia, the capricious mind left

waiting beyond its periphery. “Kiss me”,

I whispered before you could see my tears.

And you did, bravely so, out in the open,

inviting looks from other people. “Open

your birthday present only when you’re close

to tears from missing me,” I said, tears

creeping into my own voice. Enough

is enough, another voice inside me

scolds, just as a couple appears on the left

of me in the taxi queue. Having left

the airport too, they now kiss in the open

with only an audience of one - that’s me -

to steal a side glance at their love, so close

that I can almost touch them. Enough

of not being understood completely, of tears

and feeling sorry for myself. Enough.

A cab draws up close to me like the future.

With no tears left, I open its door and go.