The Man She Knew

I remember the man you fell in love with.
He was young and almost innocent,
shy to a fault.

He smiled more often than he laughed
and his smile was such
that his shyness
was almost unbearable.

His hair and the way he combed it
could make you wet,
and you didn’t need to be touching,
but if you did
you found it difficult to keep your fingers
off..

Likewise his skin,
so white and smooth and soft,
but laid atop long muscles.
Just putting your hand on his arm
could make you weak.

Who could have guessed
that one day you would walk off and leave him
without regret
because his eyes no longer smiled
or the muscles heft,
and the head where you pastured bald?

Whatever it was you loved
got up and left
and you were left ashamed.

Oh, he had changed,
but that didn’t account for your anger.
He loved most his poems.