To His Sick Lover
The picture sits right next to the TV,
a prince's face on gold coin freshly minted,
on Gloucester Road in 1983.
(His hair blondined, his lashes newly tinted.)
My gaze now strays away from TMC,
caught by the face I've loved for thirty years.
I touch the body lying next to me.
I choke. I sob. My eyes are filled with tears.
For almost thirty years I've known a wealth
of love and pleasure. I could not foresee
that time, depression, history and health
could take the man I love away from me.
Oh, God! The joys of heaven I'd defer
if things could only be the way they were.
